The Conductor
by xElisabeth
Summary: For Daisy, winding up on the lawns of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was never part of her plans for the camping trip. However after being mistaken for a potential love interest, a Muggle and then a Muggleborn, she decides to stick around for a bit. Will contain interactions with Golden Trio, Draco Malfoy and other characters, but will also contain OC's.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: First of all: welcome! Welcome back to some of you and just welcome to those of you who are new to reading my stories. As was already briefly stated in the summary, this story is centered around an OC and, although it will feature some characters from the original novels (most prominently: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermoine Granger and Ron Weasley), it will be first and foremost an OC story. So do not be fooled by the 'Characters' setting; this is mostly for practical purposes. Romantic relations (and purely platonic relations) may be made later in the story, but this will mostly be later on in the story. Lastly I want to add that I don't know how often I'll be able to update since I am under a heavy workload from school, but I will try to find a pace that works for both me as a writer and for you readers. Now, without further ado; the first chapter of The Conductor. Let me know what you think.**

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Chapter 1

'I found her wandering the school grounds, professor. She seemed to be out of sorts, so I took her to you.' Draco Malfoy said, purposely leaving out the part in which he had first tried to flirt with her, failed, and had then decided something was off about the girl.

'Yes, that was a very wise decision of you, Mister Malfoy, for I don't think she's a student of ours, in fact, I don't think she's part of the wizarding world at all. Which leaves us with the question of why she is here and more importantly, how she got here.' Professor McGonagall studied the girl before her curiously. 'Perhaps she can shine some more light on the situation herself.' With a flick of her wand, professor McGonagall unfroze the girl who was seated in one of the chairs at her desk.

The girl looked around frantically, wondering how she got in the small, round office, when she'd been outside mere seconds ago. Then, as if a sudden realization dawned upon her, she jumped up from her chair and backed away from the two oddly dressed adults and the boy she had just met on the fields. Did they take him too, she wondered.

'Where am I? Who are you people?' The more she thought about the situation, the less she really understood. She couldn't remember being attacked, no less being brought inside.

'Miss, would you please sit down, we mean you no harm,' Professor McGonagall gestured towards the chair.

The girl calmed down a bit at those words, then nodded and, although still hesitatingly, made small steps towards her previous seating place, but made no attempt as to seat herself.

'Now, my name is professor McGonagall and this is professor Snape. We want to ask you a few things. But firstly, what is your name?'

'Daisy,' she said, in a voice much softer than before 'My name is Daisy McCalman.'

'Well then, Ms. McCalman, perhaps you would be so kind as to explain what you were doing on the school grounds?' Snape asked her in his usual snarling manner, something the girl obviously wasn't accustomed to, Draco noticed, for she cringed visibly.

'I didn't know they were private grounds, I swear!' She called out, clearly feeling the need to defend herself.

'Then what other business could have brought you to this particular area?'

The girl looked frightened at the greasy-haired man before her and it took every inch of Draco's self-control not to burst out in laughter right then and there.

For a moment, the girl seemed to be distracted from the terror before her and met his eyes with a frown, then she brought her attention back to the conversation at hand. 'I am on a camping trip with my Aunt and Uncle. Our camp is not far from here. They told me there wasn't any cultivation, so I decided to take a stroll across the landscape and came upon the castle.'

McGonagall nodded and pursed her already thin lips into a straight line – making them almost invisible – while looking pensive for a moment.

The girl, Daisy, however took this as an opportunity to question whatever it was that she had seen when she happened upon Hogwarts. 'What is this place? And how did you get me here when I was outside just seconds ago?'

Professor McGonagall did not answer, but gave Snape a meaningful look. 'I think we must get professor Dumbledore, we've got a Muggle on our hands.'

Draco, who had gotten pretty bored throughout the entire conversation and wanted nothing more than to spend the few sunny hours of his free Saturday outside a teacher's office, gestured lazily at the girl. 'Can't we just Obliviate her and be done with it?'

His Transfiguration teacher looked at him pointedly 'No, Mister Malfoy, we cannot 'just Obliviate her and be done with it'. I do not expect you to understand the gravity of the situation, nor the implications her being here has on all of us. However, since professor Dumbledore is out for business until tonight and since you're already involved, I'd like to ask you to take her under your wing for the time being. Surely you can accomplish such a simple task.'

He huffed 'As if I have nothing better to do than babysit a Muggle. Do you really think that I want to dirty my hands on…-'

'It was not a question, Mister Malfoy.'

In desperation, he turned to his Potion Master and Head of House. 'Professor Snape, surely you..-'

'Fully agree with everything Professor McGonagall has told you.'

Turning on his heel, he made for the door. 'Just wait until my father hears about this.' Without looking – or caring – whether the Girl was following him or not, he turned a corner. She could get lost for all he cared, perhaps drown herself in the Lake or something. He cursed Merlin for throwing her existence in the way of enjoying his free afternoon. He'd even gotten rid of Parkinson, just to be stuck with something far worse.

'Would you slow down, please, I can barely keep up!' He heard her voice from behind him. So she was still there. How fortunate..

Instead of answering her, he sped up even more. He wished he could see the look on her face, but didn't want to turn around. His imagination would do just fine.

'Excuse me, M-Malfoy?'

He froze in mid-step and turned around, her body almost colliding into his by this unexpected stop. 'Don't _ever_ say my name.' Then he turned back and was about to resume walking when her annoying voice piped up again.

'So what should I call you then?'

'Nothing.'

'Alright. So what's a Muggle?'

He bit his lip as to not strike out at the obnoxiousness of her entire being. He changed course now, realizing that he wasn't going to get rid of her and wanting to let as few people as possible know that he had to take care of a Muggle. So that ruled out the Great Hall, the fields and the Slytherin Common Room. Not that he would have taken her to the latter anyway, Merlin forbid. Salazar Slytherin would roll in his grave if he knew a Muggle had entered the noble House of Slytherin. No, he had to take her to a place where there would be no one to see them together and preferably somewhere where she wouldn't bombard him with questions anymore, either. Having come up with the perfect place, he took some short cuts to avoid crowded hallways to eventually wind up at his destination: the library.

Coming to the library was by itself an uncommon thing for Draco Malfoy. He much preferred studying in the Common Room or, even better, bribing someone into doing his homework. He was not stupid by any means, though, just lazy, spoiled and too good at manipulating for anyone's good, expect for his own.

'Your school has a library?!' The Girl all but called out, having completely forgotten that he'd ignored her last question as well.

Draco merely shrugged his shoulders and dropped himself on a seat at an empty table in the back. Holding his head in his hands, he tried to forget the reality around him. This was harder than he'd hoped, especially because the Girl kept asking him questions, be it on a Pince-accepted volume. Most of them were about things she'd seen in the hallways (she'd not stop about the bloody portraits!), but she also wanted to know about things that she'd find in one of the books. Allowing her to read about magic might not have been the best of ideas, but he truly couldn't care less. After dinner she would not be his concern anymore and right now it kept her occupied. He watched as she pulled another book from the shelve fascinatedly. Flipping through the pages, her eyebrows kept rising until they threatened to disappear into her strawberry blond hair.

'Werewolves, they must be kidding right?' She asked him, her voice full of certainty.

He shrugged his shoulders again, not taking the effort to keep up with the endless stream of questions anymore. It was as if you were trying to explain the world to a child. Only was the Girl much more interested, studious and most of all; annoying. Standing there in her jeans and a crimson shirt with some band he'd never heard of printed on it, she looked every bit the Muggle she was. He couldn't understand how no one had addressed him about it, but then again, he was glad they hadn't. At the moment she was flipping through the pages of a book as eagerly as Granger, seeming more interested with every page she passed. Somehow this irritated Draco to no end, but he didn't comment on it, if only because he didn't want to talk to her.

It was at this very moment that his least favourite people _in the world_ walked into their aisle, joining his least favourite person _at the moment_. As if his day could not have gotten any worse than it had already been..

'Didn't know you could read, Malfoy. Although, it seems as if you are not doing much of that anyway. Getting some beauty sleep?'

'I don't particularly need it, Potter. However, you look like you could better sleep for the rest of your life. Or better, put a bag over your head an rid us all of your Scarface.'

Then, as if things weren't bad enough, the Girl decided to turn around from the bookshelf. 'Are these your friends?'

~ Daisy ~

As soon as the last word passed her lips, Daisy knew she'd said something terribly wrong; four faces turned to her, their expressions ranging from amazement to utter disgust. One of the newly arrived people, a ginger haired guy who was at least a head taller than the rest of them, even turned a fiery red.

'I'd rather kill myself than…-'

'We most definitely are not…-'

'Merlin, I'd rather eat my…-'

'Disgusting!'

Having them all look at her, she felt slightly uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gazes of the newcomers. Even the Malfoy guy – who, for some reason she was not allowed to call by his name – was now looking at her, something which he had not bothered to do ever since they'd been with the professors.

'Never mind it, then..' Grabbing another book from the shelve randomly, she hoped that they would soon forget about her existence. What she had not been prepared for, though, was that the book would start humming when she opened it. Swiftly slamming it shut again, she put it back in its place and shoved her hands in her jeans pockets, trying to look casual.

'I haven't seen you around before, what House are you in?' The ginger boy asked her, suspiciously.

Confused by his question, she was about to ask what he meant when the Malfoy guy cut in. 'Surely you don't think that I'd waste my time on some Hufflepuff? I'd think even someone with a rat's brain like you could grasp that much. Or perhaps your parents couldn't even afford you a brain at all, Weasley.'

The redhead possibly turned even redder, his face now matching his hair perfectly. He was about to step forward, his hands clenched to fists, when 'Potter' and the girl caught him by the arms.

'Don't bother, Ron, he'll just go crying with his father,' Potter said.

'Let's go, before Malfoy lands us _all_ into trouble.' She pulled Ron Weasley with her and, after one last intimidating look, Potter followed.

Letting go of her breath, Daisy dropped herself in a chair. 'So, you're quite the jerk, aren't you? And a cry baby too, apparently.'

Malfoy gave her a dirty look, but didn't respond.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hi guys, welcome to the second chapter of the Conductor. Thank you to _sanna11_ and _t42n24t2 _for reviewing the first chapter! I also want to advise anyone who wants to write a story but can't come up with an idea to look at the new 'story' I just opened, which contains ideas I've had, but am not going to work on. ****I hope you will all enjoy and won't forget to review!**

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Chapter 2

It was nearing dinner time and Draco Malfoy's stomach had long gone from a soft, discreet rumbling to outright roars. He knew the Girl had also gotten bored and perhaps a little agitated, but he hadn't cared to take her somewhere else. Now, however, he decided he couldn't take the hunger any longer and suddenly stood and marched to the library exit. Once again, he did not really care if she was following him, but from the soft footfalls he heard from behind him, he knew she was.

For a second, he considered just bringing the Girl to the Great Hall. He could perhaps force her to wear some Slytherin robes and order her to keep her mouth shut. However, soon the idiocy of that plan dawned on him, as she had already proven herself to be incapable of remaining silent. Besides, his House mates would most definitely not take 'she's new' for an answer. Therefore, there remained no other option than to go down to the kitchens and eat something there.

Just like before, he picked the route that had the smallest chance of them running into people, and he quickened his pace. His stomach was now clearly audible and he wanted to still his hunger as soon as possible. When they reached the fruit basket portrait, he quickly tickled the pear and opened the door as if nothing special had happened. Of course, to no avail.

'Did you tickling that pear just open the door? Unbelievable,' he heard her say from behind him, but didn't answer her. Instead, he walked up to the nearest House Elf and requested it would bring them something to eat and some Pumpkin Juice. The thing scurried off and another conjured a table and some comfortable chairs for them.

It was then he noticed the Girl staring at the creatures, a mix of curiosity and restraint. She leaned over the table 'What are these things?'

'They're House Elves,' he answered, bored.

'House Elves,' she repeated slowly, then continued 'So what do they do?'

'They take care of the housekeeping.'

'But if you can do magic, why wouldn't you just do it yourself?'

'Why are you still talking?'

She bit her lip, then huffed. 'I don't know what it is you are so annoyed by, but there's no need for being such a git to me.'

Draco pinched his nose bridge and tried to calm himself. 'You,' he wanted to yell at her. 'You are what annoys me!' Instead he simply remained silent and searched for any sign of the House Elf.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to wait long, for soon the House Elf returned and put several dishes on the table and a pitcher filled with Pumpkin Juice. 'Why did that take so long?' He demanded of the Elf, who now visibly shrank back. 'Can't you see I am starving?'

'Weezy is sorry, Sir, Weezy tried to be as fast as he could.'

Draco opened his mouth again, but was beaten by the Girl. 'That's quite alright, Weezy, thank you very much for your help.'

The House Elf smiled and bowed deeply for her. 'The young Miss is very kind to Weezy.' He then bowed one more time, his pointy nose almost touching the ground in the process, and scurried off again. Draco felt disgusted by it.

Filling his plate with several things, he noticed that the Girl was glaring at him. He sighed as he put down the potatoes and looked her straight in the eye. 'What is it now, again?'

She picked up the potatoes from where he'd sat them and put some on her plate before she answered. 'You didn't have to treat him the way you did, you know?'

'And I didn't have to feed you, but I did, didn't I?'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'That you shouldn't complain.'

And that was the last thing they said for the next twenty minutes. They both ate in silence until they were full and then drank their Juice. Looking down at his magical watch, he noticed it was already half past six and Draco decided he had taken care of the Girl long enough.

Shoving back his chair, he stood and left the kitchens. As he strode through the hallways, he was well aware she struggled to keep up.

'Hold on! Where are we going?'

'I'm delivering you to the Headmaster, so I can finally go and enjoy the rest of my free Saturday.'

'Oh… so what will happen then?'

'I don't know.' And that was the truth. He truly did not know what would happen to the Muggle Girl after he would drop her off. Apparently just erasing her memory wouldn't do, or that was what McGonagall had told him. Probably had something to do with the spells that were supposed to keep Muggles away from the school. If they had failed on her, who's to say they wouldn't fail on others as well? All this, however, was none of his business and he didn't plan on making it his business.

'Do you think I can go back to my Aunt and Uncle after we're done there? I am sure they must be worried sick by now.'

He grinded his teeth. 'I don't know.'

It was then they arrived at the large, stone gargoyle that masked the way to the Headmaster's office. Speaking the password, the statue moved and a winded staircase came into view. He heard her suck in her breath, but didn't pay attention to what must have been a miracle for her. Instead, he began his way up the many steps until at last they reached an oak-wooden door. Draco raised his hand to knock, but before his fist had even made contact with the door, a voice called them in.

~ Daisy ~

Daisy held in her breath as they entered the Headmaster's office. It was a large, circular room, filled to the brim with all sorts of strange instruments and gadgets. Some were making soft humming noises, others were moving and she even noticed a couple of objects simply floating a few inches above the surface of a cabinet or side table . The walls were covered with portraits of old men and women; some sleeping, some watching her and Malfoy as they entered the room, others apparently in conversation with another in hushed voices. The objects in the room alone were enough to keep her busy for a day, but what fascinated her most was the man who sat in the middle of all these curiosities.

He was an old man; his long, white beard disappearing under the desk at which he sat, his eyes twinkling with a sense of both mischief and wisdom behind his half-moon spectacles and a friendly smile lit up his face. 'You may go now, if you please, Mr. Malfoy.' Then, as she heard the door close behind the boy, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. 'Ms. Daisy McCalman, wasn't it?'

Daisy nodded nervously, not daring to speak.

'As you may or may not have heard, I am professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I trust Mr. Malfoy has shown you around a bit and has kept you entertained?'

She considered for a moment straight out telling this elderly man the truth, but in the end she just nodded.

'Well, the question now is, what to do with you?'

'You are not going to kill me, are you?!'

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, smilingly. 'Of course not, dear. But our school is supposed to be protected from Muggles – non magical people, that is – and yet here you are. Do you see the problem, Ms. McCalman?'

'I do, Professor.'

'Then let us now try and find out why the protection spells did not work against you..'

The next hours were filled with endless questions, some of which she didn't even see the relevance of to the problem at hand. There were questions like 'Did you ever cause something to happen that was unexplainable?' or 'Did you know magic existed?' and these all made perfect sense in her mind. However, there were also questions such as 'What's your favourite kind of toffee?' and at those moments she was not sure if the old man was just joking around or if he expected a real answer. Nonetheless, she tried answering them as thorough and serious as possible.

It was, at last, decided that she truly was a Muggle. She did not possess magic and there was no other logical explanation for the failing of the spells than that it had been just that; a failing, a random error. Somehow this made Daisy feel sad, for after seeing this magical world, a part of her had wanted to belong there. She looked down at her lap and tried furiously to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill.

'Are you alright, Ms. McCalman?'

She tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. 'I am, Professor. I just..' Her voice broke after that and she never got to finish the sentence for suddenly there was a loud noise behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see an entire book case be wiped empty, the books flying of shelf by shelf. She turned back to the Headmaster, but was surprised to see a smile on his face.

'Perhaps I was wrong..' Taking out a long, wooden stick out of one of the pockets of his robe, he handed it to her. 'Waving will be enough, Ms. McCalman.'

Awkwardly, she gave the stick a little wave and saw to her surprise another bookshelf be wiped empty. Daisy laid the stick on the desk quickly. 'I am sorry, Professor, I did not mean to..-'

'That is quite alright,' and with a flick of the stick all books flew back to their places. 'Now, I think we will have to sort you into a House.'

'So does this mean I _am_ magical?' She dared to ask him as he walked up to one of the bookcases.

The elderly man paused a moment before he answered. 'Yes and no. I do think you are capable of some kind of magic, but I don't think you are magical per se.'

She frowned at his answer, not understanding what he'd meant by it. Before she could think more about it, however, he'd placed an old, musty hat on her head and for a moment the world disappeared out of view.

What she had not expected was the voice that suddenly sounded right next to her ear and she almost jumped out of her seat. 'Ah, well this is something new… I sense a lot of power, but also a sense to do the right thing. You are willing to learn, by no doubt, and headstrong. I think you would do best in… Gryffindor!'

Professor Dumbledore smiled, as the last word was spoken out loud, and he took the hat back to the bookcase. 'Well, all that leaves us to do now is getting you a wand.'


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hi guys, welcome back to the third installment of the Conductor. I hope all of you won't be disappointed by the end of the chapter. Pinky promise, there is a good reason for her being able to do that, which will be explained in one of the next chapters. So please, don't pass any judgement just yet. Thank you to _Sanna11_ for reviewing chapter 2. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

It was soon decided that Daisy would be starting in the first year, since she had no magical experience whatsoever. Professor McGonagall, however, had arranged for her to be roomed with a couple of girls her own age, instead of the eleven year-old first years (bless the older woman!). This room she shared with three other girls, among whom was the brown haired girl she had seen bickering with Malfoy. The girl, Hermione Granger, was very nice to her and had even offered her to help catch up with the homework. Ron Weasley and Potter – whose first name she had learned was Harry – were also in Gryffindor, and she was glad to already know some people.

Despite the excitement of it all, she missed her Aunt and Uncle dearly. The Headmaster had told her that he had sent them a letter, explaining everything, and that she could visit them in the holidays, but she couldn't help but feel a bit sad.

'Are you coming to breakfast, Daisy?' Hermione asked her, as she tried pushing another book in her already packed bag.

She nodded and grabbed her own bag as well, ready to follow the brunette out.

'Don't forget your wand!'

Turning back sheepishly, she took the wooden stick from her night table and tucked it in her pocket awkwardly. 'Right, thanks Hermione.' As they walked down the stairs, Daisy was scared to death by stories of wizards having blasted their arses off by having put their wands in their back pockets and when they met with Ron and Harry in the common room, she discretely dropped it in her bag.

Yesterday morning – and the rest of the meals as well, actually – she had been blown away by the invisible roof in the Great Hall, at first really thinking it was an open space. Although Harry had explained to her it was just an enchantment, she still thought it was pretty wicked.

'So Daisy, are you looking forward to your classes?'

'Well, I am excited to learn some magic, but I am afraid I'll be no good at it. I mean, all these kids are three years younger than me, but I am sure I will be the worst of all of them, since I have never done magic.'

'Don't think like that, Daisy,' Harry said, comfortingly. 'When I got to Hogwarts, I had never used magic either, but you'll catch up quickly!'

'And if you need some help, just ask us!'

'With that she means just ask her,' Ron said, yawning. 'I still don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing sometimes.'

They all laughed at that and sat down at the Gryffindor table. It still surprised her to see the school was divided so clearly in groups. At first she'd thought it would be just a solution for the rooms or something, but she'd soon learned that Houses really were like your family; in general Gryffindors hung out with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with Ravenclaws. Of course there were some exceptions, but it was a thing that was taken pretty seriously around here. Gazing through the room, her eyes met with a couple of grey ones at the Slytherin table. His eyes widened and it was as if his mouth would drop open, but then he just glared. Sticking her nose in the air, Daisy turned back to the conversation between the three friends. It had not taken her long to figure out that Malfoy had only treated her so awfully because he thought she was a Muggle, which he apparently felt too good for. The git.

Not quite following the conversation at hand, she tuned out and grabbed a piece of toast. Something about a tournament, or something.. Eating her toast in silence, she wondered what her first class would be about. On her timetable it said 'Transfiguration', but she wasn't quite sure what that meant. All she knew was that the subject would be taught by Professor McGonagall, which she was happy about. At least she knew not to expect much of Daisy.

'I don't know if you've noticed, but Malfoy has been glaring at you almost from the very moment we sat down.'

'Oh yeah, I know,' She shrugged. 'I don't think he likes me very much.'

'Then why was he with you on Saturday?' Harry asked her, curiously.

And so Daisy retold the happenings of that Saturday, from how she ended up at Hogwarts fields to the cryptic message Professor Dumbledore had given her.

'So he doesn't think you're a witch?'

Daisy shook her head at the brunette. 'No, but that I am capable of magic nonetheless, apparently. I didn't understand it at all.'

'He has a thing for being as vague and cryptic as possible,' Ron agreed. 'I mostly only come to understand what he means after it has happened.'

Daisy laughed 'I am kind of hoping things will happen soon, as well, so I might finally understand.'

This made everyone laugh and as the other students began to file out of the Hall, the quartet followed. Ron, Harry and Hermione were kind enough to walk her to her classroom, before going off in the direction of their own. This was good, because the castle seemed to have endless hallways, some of which seemed to have a dead end at some times and not at others, and with the stairs moving on their own account as well, it was easy to get lost.

Outside of the classroom were a twenty-something eleven year-olds chatting, screaming and laughing. That is, until the moment Daisy joined the crowd. Suddenly all Gryffindors and Slytherins grew quiet and eyed her with suspicion and, overwhelmed by discomfort, she made her way into the still empty classroom.

Although mainly void of any magical looking things, the classroom differed a lot from the ones at her old school. There were no fluorescent tubes lighting the room, no plastictables and chairs for the students to sit at and no boring posters about some mathematical problem or the composition of the soil in the ocean or anything of the sort. It was… a relief.

'Ms. McCalman, I suggest you take a seat in the front so you can pay extra attention.' As she said this, the rest of the students filed in the room and began taking seats. Not wanting to turn a deaf ear to the professor's advice, Daisy quickly sat down at the front row. She took out her book, a quill, ink and some parchment – she still did not understand why they didn't just use a pen and paper – and looked around her. The first years were all at least a full head shorter than her and she couldn't help but be reminded of the time she had to babysit her little niece. The big difference now, however, was that they would probably have to babysit her.

'Today we shall continue with the match to needle spell. I hope that after last week's homework at least one of you has made some progress with it. Everyone is to return to his or her former partner – there will be _no_ switching! – and I will check and, if need be, correct your work.'

As if on cue, everyone started bustling about and Daisy was soon left alone in the front row. She knew this would happen. With neither knowledge of the task at hand, nor a partner to work with, she was sure her magical school career would end before it had even begun. This was however when McGonagall marched over, a small, clumsy looking boy trailing behind her.

'Ms. McCalman, Mr. Ackerly will be your partner today.' She then turned to the boy. 'Remember, the words are 'Igniculus Veracum', accompanied by a simple wave of the wand. And please, Mr. Ackerly, try not to set anything on fire this time.'

The young boy turned a fiery red and glared at his shoes as he sat down beside her. He muttered a soft 'hi', then took out his match and placed it on the table. 'Do you want to go first?'

Daisy shook her head 'No, I'm good, you go ahead.'

Nervously, Ackerly took out his wand and held it up. Making a strange sort of wave in the air, accompanied by the spell, she saw a beam of red light emit from the tip of the boy's wand, going straight for the match. Nothing happened.. Disappointed, the boy checked whether the match had not even changed a bit in colour, but when he came to the conclusion that it hadn't, he turned to her. 'So eh, now you try.'

Equally nervous, she nodded and looked around just in time to see Professor McGonagall showing the correct wand movement to a couple of first years. To say it differed from the one Ackerly had just shown her was an understatement. Taking out her own wand, Daisy mimicked the Professor's wave as best as she could while pronouncing the spell. To her own surprise, and that of Ackerly, when the red beam of light extinguished, there was a needle lying on the desk in front of them.

'Merlin, you did it! Professor, you've got to see this!'

Within seconds, not just Professor McGonagall but also the rest of the students, had gathered around the table to catch a glimpse of the perfect needle.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Welcome back to another chapter of The Conductor. Hopefully, this chapter will clear things up a bit - certainly about the title of the story - and I would very much wish to know what you think. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 4

'I can't believe you managed in one try!' Harry said, incredulous as they met up at the Gryffindor table. 'Even Hermione only managed to make it silver and perhaps a bit pointier at the end of our first class.'

'She'll go bloody mad if she hears this.'

Daisy laughed, then looked around. 'Where is she anyway?'

'Library,' they answered simultaneously, as if this was some sort of custom. Daisy envied their friendship. It was so effortless, yet they were ready to die for one another if necessary. Apparently, from what she'd heard at least, this had almost been the case on more than one occasion. On her old school, she had only had one girl she hung out with regularly. Yet she was quite sure even she would not miss her very much.

'So, how did the rest of your classes go so far?'

Looking pensively, she thought back on her day. 'Well, all the practical subjects went pretty well.. _very_ well in fact. I almost fell asleep during History of Magic and got piles of homework to work through before tomorrow. But Potions…' She shuddered involuntarily, thinking back on that particular subject.

The problems had begun as soon as Daisy had stepped foot in the dungeons. She had tried following the other Gryffindors, but somehow had found herself lost anyway. Then, when she'd finally found the classroom, she was late and tried to get to one of the empty chairs as inconspicuous as possible, but stumbled over a bag and notified everyone in the classroom of her existence. To her horror – as if things weren't bad enough – she then noticed that the professor was no other than the greasy haired, cruel looking professor Snape she'd met on her first day. 'Miss McCalman, how good of you to join us,' he'd sneered, then deducted fifteen points from Gryffindor. The rest of the class she had diligently made her notes, cowering under the professor's gaze whenever he would look at her. It had been a nightmare.

Harry patted her back compassionately. 'It's nothing personal, Daisy. Snape's just.. well,' he scratched his head 'he enjoys torturing anyone apart from the Slytherins of course, who are his own house. Really, don't worry too much about it.'

Daisy couldn't repress the shiver that went along her spine by the mere thought of the Potions Master. 'I still would rather throw myself of the highest tower of the castle than attend his class again.'

Before either Harry or Ron could respond to that, a heavy 'thud' resounded as a bag was dropped on the table. Hermione sat down on the empty seat they had saved her and sighed. 'I am sorry I am late, guys, but I was in the library and..-'

'You completely forgot about the time,' Ron finished for her monotonously. 'Yes, we know.'

The bushy haired girl reddened. 'Yes well, you won't believe what I found!' Grabbing hold of her bag, she pulled out a big, dusty looking book and ticked it with her wand, causing it to open on a page halfway through the book.

'Gee Hermione, another book, how exciting. Don't you already have like.. a thousand?'

'Oh shut up, Ronald.' Putting her index finger down, she began to read out loud. 'Here; 'The Conductor is one of the rarest of magical creatures and its existence has long been discussed. Although not much is certain about the way the Conductor obtains its magic, it's said he or she lives off the magic of other magical creatures. Not possessing magic itself, it is able to extract magic from other beings, making it a most powerful creature when in the proximity of large amounts of magic.'' She looked up, giving each of her friends a meaningful look. However, when she noticed no one had caught on like she'd hoped them to, she sighed. 'Don't you get it? This explains why you were never able to use magic before, Daisy. But when you neared Hogwarts, you must have attracted enough magic to get past the security spells.'

Daisy furrowed her brows. Was that possible? It would explain professor Dumbledore's cryptic message. 'Can't it be possible that my magic just kicked in later than normally?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I looked into that as well, but as far as I could find magic always starts showing itself in childhood. Only a really powerful spell could have restrained your magical abilities, but if that were the case I don't see why you would have been able to use your magic now all of the sudden.'

Pondering on that thought for a moment, Daisy realized that the brunette was right. It didn't make sense. But then again she wasn't quite ready to accept that she was some sort of parasite living off of other people's magic. 'There must be some other explanation. I mean, you said yourself that it's not even certain that a Conductor exists.'

'Actually, I think it makes a lot of sense. It explains how you are so good at magic, even when you have no experience with it.'

'Harry, you can't be seriously considering the idea of her living on our magic, can you?' Ron all but called out.

The raven haired boy shrugged 'As Hermione said, there really isn't any other logical explanation, is there?'

'Shouldn't we just wait with coming to conclusions until professor Dumbledore tells us what he thinks is going on?'

'Dumbledore!' Harry and Ron exclaimed simultaneously and shared a look. Then they jumped up from the bench and, both taking one of Daisy's arms, pulling her with them out of the Great Hall. Hermione rushed after them while at the same time trying to put the enormous book back in her bag.

They stopped at the gargoyle statue, marking the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Harry called out the password – which had apparently changed since the last time Daisy had been there – and they all headed up the stone staircase. Without knocking, Harry threw open the door, regretting his action as soon as the quartet took sight of Dumbledore. And his guest.

'Come in, Harry,' professor Dumbledore called out as they were about to close the door again. 'Mr. Crouch and I were just finished.'

The other wizard stood from his chair and bristled past the four teenagers, only giving a nod to Harry before he descended the stairs.

Daisy had expected professor Dumbledore to be at least a bit upset with them, but was once again surprised by the older man when he offered them a toffee as they took their seats. When they all declined, he simply popped one of the purple sweets into his own mouth and smiled at them from behind his half-moon shaped spectacles. 'I believe there is a reason you came bursting into my office?'

Growing red, the Boy-Who-Lived looked down. 'It's just something Hermione found, professor. She said.. she said Daisy might be a Conductor. Is that possible, Sir?'

Instead of answering him, the elder man turned his twinkling eyes to Hermione. 'I had no doubt you would figure it out, Miss Granger. I cannot give you certainty, but I believe in this case it would be safe to go with the most logical explanation.'

'So what does this mean for me?' Daisy said, surprised that she'd spoken her thoughts out loud.

'It means that you will have to be careful, Miss McCalman, for there will be many wizards and witches who would be interested in you – both good and bad ones. I suggest you only disclose this secret to those that you trust.'

The four students were all caught off guard by the sudden, serious tone of the conversation. None of them had thought it would have any far-reaching consequences.. Nevertheless, they all nodded. 'Yes, professor.'


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Welcome back everyone! First and foremost I want to thank sanna11 for reviewing last chapter. Your opinion of things is always appreciated and I am glad to know that you enjoy the story so far. Secondly, I want to say that I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope it will be just as enjoyable to read for all of you. Please let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 5

On professor Dumbledore's further recommendations, Daisy had been allowed to follow a special program. With some help from Hermione, she was to go through the most important subject matter from the first three years, so she would be able to follow fourth year's classes by Christmas. It was a heavy workload, what with having to do all of the exams, but Daisy was glad that she would not be surrounded by eleven year-olds anymore.

The big downside of it all was that although she excelled in all of the practical subjects, she still had to struggle her way through subjects such as Herbology, History of Magic and… Potions. The thought of having to spend extra hours alone with professor Snape was almost bad enough to keep her from following through with the program. But sure enough, with some encouragement from the ever positive Harry, she found herself down in the dungeons every Tuesday night at seven o'clock.

'Stir it _clockwise_, Miss McCalman, not counter-clockwise,' professor Snape snapped at her as he peered into her cauldron disapprovingly. 'You can't expect to follow an advanced potions program if you can't even read the instructions properly.'

From her many hours in the company of the Potions Master, Daisy knew that Snape really didn't expect an answer. The last time she did offer one, she received an even more hateful look than normally and he deducted 15 points from Gryffindor for 'disrespect of a teacher'. No, she had learned that it would be far better to leave him to his snide comments and spiteful mutterings without paying attention to it. Despite her own misery, Daisy was glad that he disliked their hours together at least as much as she did. Apart from her apparent incompetence, his favourite subjects for muttering were, in order of increasing frequency, Gryffindor favouritism, Dumbledore having lost his mind and, lastly, Harry Potter. The latter surprised her, since her raven haired friend seemed to popular among the wizarding world for _repeatedly_ defeating Volde– You-Know-Who. Then again, given that professor Snape was as foul as they go, she shouldn't have been surprised that he hated Harry so much.

A knock on the door interrupted her musings and she sneaked a glance up to see that the Potions Master had finally stepped away from her cauldron, giving her some room to breathe.

'Mister Malfoy,' Snape greeted the newcomer and Daisy looked behind her in surprise, the disgust clearly visible on her face. She'd had no more dealings with the boy after her first day at Hogwarts, but had heard enough to know her first impression of him had been right. 'Take a seat in the front. You are to copy five pages about the Forgetfulness potion of Magic Drafts and Potions. '

'But Sir..-'

'I've been lenient this time, Mr. Malfoy. The next time I find you in detention I will not be as mild.'

Without another word, Malfoy made his way to the front, throwing his bag down on one of the empty desks. As if it cost him the greatest of efforts, he pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and his Potions book.

Going back to her own potion, Daisy found in dismay that the concoction had turned a sickly green, while it should have been a bright yellow. She quickly threw in the last two ingredients, hoping to save her potion at least somewhat before Snape would return to his place beside her. Being called names by the greasy haired man was bad enough without Malfoy getting to enjoy the show.

~ Draco ~

He was all too aware of the looks she was sending him, but Draco would not grace the girl with his attention. She was beneath him. It was bad enough they allowed mudbloods and the like to this school.

Letting out a clearly audible sigh, he wrote down the title of the chapter. He couldn't believe that professor Snape truly made him serve detention, especially since he hadn't even done anything wrong. That bloody Hufflepuff had obviously been asking for it.

Soon, his thoughts drifted back to the girl sitting across the aisle. He'd heard rumours of her being placed in second year, but hadn't thought them to be true. Besides, why would she be taking extra classes if she was that smart? Chancing a glance to the left, her strawberry chin-length hair did little to disguise the look of terror on her face as she saw Snape approaching. Obviously she had messed up her potion. It took all of his self-control to keep Draco from laughing, knowing that it would be a matter of seconds before the Potions Master would find out.

Momentarily distracted by the show that would inevitably follow, he watched the girl as she hastily threw in three eyes of newt and some snakeweed. Stirring the potion clockwise with her left hand, she wiped her other at her robes, her nose scrunched up in disgust.

Just then, as Draco was wondering how much she must have screwed up her potion to make it smell that bad, she slapped the ladle down onto the wooden desk and turned to look at him. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and her lips were pushed into a straight line. 'Can I help you?'

Quickly hiding his surprise behind his well-practiced mask of indifference, he looked her up and down with a look of disinterest. 'I doubt it.' Without saying anything else, he returned to his still empty parchment. The irritation and hate were rolling off of her in waves and he had to fight the smirk from his lips. She was so easy to anger. Sneaking a glance at her, he noticed she looked ready to burst, her hands into tight fists and her gaze positively murderous. Even Weasel had a better reign over his anger.

An image of that first day that he'd met her crossed his mind and he couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself. How he'd ever thought of her as being even remotely pretty was beyond him.

'Professor,' her hand shot into the air and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. She reminded him too much of Granger, what with her eagerness to perform well. She was lucky they were in professor Snape's classroom, or he would have surely made some sort of snide remark about it.

Snape strode up to her desk with long strides and peered almost disdainfully down into her cauldron. Then, as if it almost hurt him to say it, he nodded. 'You are free to go, Miss McCalman. I will see you tomorrow in class.'

As the girl almost gleefully packed her bag, Draco scowled at her. He had hoped that she would be scolded, razed to the ground or at least be reduced to tears, but alas, luck was not on his side today. Perhaps he could just…-

'I believe I asked you to copy the book, Mr. Malfoy, not stare at another student.'

'Yes, professor,' he lowered his head, determined not to look at the girl's reaction, who was without a doubt amused at his embarrassment. Slipping his wand out of the sleeve of his robe, he quietly mumbled the spell when the professor's back was turned. Quickly removing the leg-bind hex as she hit the ground, he returned to his Potion's book, an innocent expression plastered on his face. Nonetheless, he couldn't help the smug smile creeping up his lips as he saw her collecting her things and stuffing them back into her bag forcefully. From the looks she was sending him, it wasn't difficult to deduce that she knew exactly what he'd done. The girl didn't say anything however and, after a last seething glance in his direction, left the classroom.

~ Daisy ~

That bloody prat, Daisy seethed as she slammed the room to the dormitories behind her. Who did he think he was, treating her like that? And to trip her, too. The nerve that boy got. She'd rather have jumped on him right then and there to beat the crap out of him – Snape or no Snape – but her pride wouldn't allow it. No, she would not stoop to his level. Especially not since it was exactly what he wanted.

Throwing her bag down by the footboard of her bed more forcefully than was necessary, she pulled at her hair in annoyance. If he kept up this act, she would be in prison for murder before the end of October. 'That slimy, miserable git,' she mumbled under her breath, already dreading the moment that she would next see him. Not because she was afraid of him – rather the contrary in fact – but rather because she wasn't sure whether she'd be able to control herself if he said but one word to her.

'What did you say?' Hermione's voice asked, the brunette not looking up from the book she was reading.

'Never mind.'


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Welcome to another chapter of the Conductor. Once again, I liked writing this chapter and hope that you'll enjoy reading it. Also, I just hope people are in general are enjoying this story. But anyways, on with the story!**

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Chapter 6

The week passed without any further encounters with the Slytherin boy, but there was an excited buzz filling the corridors of Hogwarts that made Daisy feel on edge nevertheless. Rumours of the imminent arrival of foreign wizards and witches were enough to put everyone in a frenzy – no matter if it was because of the prospect of getting to interact with people from another culture or of getting to witness a legendary tournament.

What's so special about that bloody tournament, anyway? Daisy wondered gruffly to herself as she absent-mindedly doodled on her parchment - her intent to pay attention in class long forgotten. It was useless anyway, she surmised, since she would perform whatever spell they were working on this time perfectly anyway. She'd have wished her excellence followed her across the threshold of her Potions classes, though..

At the sound of the bell, she quickly shoved her things into her bag, eager to get away. Although she was still intrigued by the magic around her, she simply couldn't help but get bored in class. After all, it really didn't matter whether it was English or Charms when you pass it with flying colours.

'I've heard the winner earns eternal glory,' Daisy overheard a ginger boy excitedly whisper to his friend and couldn't help but roll her eyes at it. Try as she might, she did not understand it. She didn't and she couldn't come to any other conclusion that these people were mad. Why would someone risk their life for such a stupid thing as glory?

Of course she was not the only one insusceptible to the call of glory: Hermione seemed somewhat unimpressed by it, too, though the brunette had her own reason for that. Apparently people had died during the tournament.. No matter her reasons, Daisy was glad that at least one other person could still talk about something else than the competition, as it was starting to annoy her beyond belief.

Dropping herself gracelessly at the Gryffindor table, she only acknowledged the others with a short nod before she started loading her plate. She was tired, hungry and in no mood to go to her extra Herbology hour. Emptying a spoon full of potatoes rather forcefully, Daisy wondered why on earth she had ever agreed to the special program. If she had known she would be completely stripped of her free time, she might just have turned the opportunity down, no matter how many hours she'd have to spend with the annoying eleven year-olds.

'Rough day?' Harry guessed, watching as she viciously stabbed at her peas.

'Try rough year,' she sighed, putting down her fork, suddenly not that hungry anymore. Daisy knew she had no right to complain and, truthfully, she hadn't even noticed how much she was bothered until that very second. In that moment, all of her negative emotions decided to break to the surface. 'I never thought I would have this little time off and between all the exams, extra courses and all this nonsense about the tournament, I just don't know what to do anymore. I mean, I thought being at a wizarding school would be fun, but so far I've barely had time to even _see_ if there are good things about it, let alone have the time to enjoy them. I feel like all I'm doing is reading, writing and listening to some professor or another and for what?' Sighing, she took her head in her hands, pulling at her strawberry blond hair. 'I just wish I could actually enjoy being here for once, instead of always having to work my ass off.'

'Perhaps you could ask McGonagall if you can go to Hogsmead? It doesn't really lessen the workload, but at least you get to enjoy yourself as well. There are more important things than school.'

'Ronald that is.. well, that's actually quite a good idea. You'll need permission from your legal guardians, though, so I suggest you send an owl out.'

Harry nodded, seemingly excited about this idea. 'I doubt your parents will be able to reply before tomorrow, but at least you'll be able to come along next time.'

Her parents. Biting her lip, Daisy looked down at her lap. She had never really breached the subject with her new friends, mainly because there was never any reason to. Now, however, it seemed that she would have to tell them. 'My parents are dead.'

'I'm sorry, Daisy, we didn't…' Hermione didn't finish her sentence, but it was clear what she wanted to say. They didn't know. They didn't mean to upset her. They just _didn't_.

'It's alright. They died when I was still a child.' Shrugging the difficult subject off, she forced on a smile. 'I will ask my Aunt and Uncle to sign a permission slip, I am sure it will be no problem.'

* * *

Walking back from the greenhouses, Daisy had to put all her effort in not falling asleep right then and there on the lawns. She was tired, dirty and somewhat hungry again. She really should have forced herself to eat a decent meal for dinner, but after the awkward conversation, appetite had not returned to her. Now, however, she wished she had emptied her plate.

Slipping through the heavy doors, a relieved sigh slipped from her lips. Although it was only autumn, the evenings were starting to become increasingly colder and the rain showers heavier. In that moment, she truly hated living in the United Kingdom, the shower in the dormitories being the only one she wanted to take.

All thoughts of the hot shower that awaited her left her mind, however, as she turned a corner. The first thing that she noticed was the small, dark-haired boy that was on the ground, shaking and on the verge of tears. Then, her eye fell on the ink well that was hovering dangerously above his head, the contents threatening to spill out. It was then that she noticed the cause of all the tumult and she unconsciously gritted her teeth. 'Oi Malfoy, leave the kid alone.'

As he turned to her, she saw that his face was pulled in a smirk, clearly enjoying the bullying of the younger boy. 'Well McCalman, come to save the day?' Twirling his wand in his hand, he looked at the ink that was only seconds away from spilling on the younger boy's head.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

The blonde pulled up an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by her growl. 'Or what? Are you challenging me to a duel?'

'Perhaps,' was her only answer, almost seeing red from the hatred that coursed through her. Oh how much she would enjoy kicking the git's ass.

'You really think a mudblood like yourself can defeat me in a magi..-'

Malfoy never got to finish that sentence, because before he knew it, she had jumped on him – her wand forgotten in the pocket of her robes. Shoving him against the wall, she pulled him closer by his collar, fixing him with the most murderous glare she could muster. 'You'd better watch what comes out of that hole in your face, Malfoy, or there might just come a day where I will not watch my actions, either.'

'What's going on?' An all-too familiar voice demanded and, reluctantly, Daisy released her grip on the boy's clothing.

'Nothing, professor,' she answered, having a difficult time to control her raging emotions around her Head of House.

Malfoy, however, wouldn't leave it at that. 'She attacked me, professor. I was just walking in the hallway and suddenly she came up at me and she was about to hit me when you arrived.'

Despite the situation – and the punishment she was most likely to receive if the professor chose to believe him – Daisy was amused by his pathetic act. Not so tough, after all, then. Then, deciding she should at least try to defend herself, she shook those thoughts off. '_I_ just came back from the green houses when I walked in on _him_ bullying this kid that..' looking around, she suddenly found the hallway was very much deserted apart from the three of them and she gritted her teeth as she realized the younger boy must have run off sometime during their confrontation. 'Oh forget it.'

McGonagall pulled up a thin eyebrow. 'That's all you have to say for yourself, Miss McCalman?'

'Yes.'

'And so you do not refute what Mr. Malfoy just said?'

'I don't, professor. It's true, I shoved him against that wall and would have definitely beaten him had you not come around to save his pathetic ass.. uhm _buttocks_.'

The older woman was not amused by this, certainly because she knew something wasn't right about the situation, but she nodded nevertheless. 'You are free to go, Mr. Malfoy, so I suggest you go back to your common room and rest a bit after this.. most unfortunate encounter. You, Miss McCalman, will follow me to my office.'


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Welcome back everyone. I haven't gotten much feedback on this story just yet and it's kind of making me uncertain about it and whether or not I should continue. So if you read the story, _please_ let me know what you think. Remember, reviews are an author's best friend! (;**

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Chapter 7

Of course, that had not been the end of it. Although it was obvious that professor McGonagall did not fully believe Malfoy's story, with the facts being what they were, she had no choice but to give Daisy detention. Two Monday evenings of polishing the armour on the fourth floor. Despite losing yet another bit of her precious leisure time, it was worth it. The way the Slytherin boy would look at her every time they passed each other in the hallway, the way he would quickly hide behind his big, bodyguard friends, Daisy would have gladly taken a thousand Mondays of detention to get to see that look for the rest of her life.

Naturally, Harry and Ron had applauded her for her actions, hailing her a hero. Hermione, however, had been less than pleased. 'What were you thinking?' She'd demanded to know, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 'You could have gotten expelled, you know. Violence is highly frowned upon at Hogwarts.' She had not tried to reason with the brunette, knowing that trying to get her see her side was impossible. Instead, she had relished in the reaction she got from Malfoy just by looking at him from across the Great Hall.

As wonderful as it had been to manhandle the Slytherin, as Daisy dragged herself to the fourth floor that Monday evening, she regretted her actions for a moment. Monday had been her only evening without extra classes planned late into the evening and now, even those few hours of freedom had been taken from her. It had, of course, been her own fault. If only she had a tighter control over her anger, she might have just walked away after his comment. But instead, as was always the case, all reason had flown out of the window as soon as Malfoy challenged her.

Reaching the fourth floor, she found a bucket and sponge already waiting for her. She was about to contemplate just leaving when an elder, filthy looking man appeared, an equally foul cat beside him. He nodded towards the bucket, a grin on his lips. 'You are not to leave until all the armour is spotless.' Turning on his worn, squeaking boots, he left Daisy to her job.

Although she rather liked cats, the caretaker's pet soon proved to be as vile as her owner and so Daisy decided to leave the animal to her staring. As she finished the first piece, she saw the cat closely inspecting her work and, as she was working on the third one, she could even swear the animal had scrunched up its nose in dissatisfaction. Surely she was going mad..

* * *

Leaving for her second evening of detention, Daisy really didn't have any hope of things being less mind-numbing than the first time. After she had cleaned all of the armour, she had found the cat had disappeared and, moments later, arrived back with Mr. Filch. She'd pushed her further suspicions about the cat aside as the caretaker had inspected her work and had then scowled at her. She'd then been allowed to go, leaving the man to his grumblings about 'real punishment' – she really didn't want to stick around to find out what those entailed.

Apart from her obvious reasons for being reluctant to drag herself to the third floor, there was something about that Monday that made it just a bit worse. And that something once again had everything to do with the bloody tournament that people would never shut up about. That morning, five minutes after Hermione had quite literally pulled her sleeping body out of bed, she knew it would be a horrible day. When she spotted the notice of the upcoming arrival of the wizarding schools, Daisy knew it was all she would hear for the remainder of the day. And she had been right.

In a way, she was almost glad to get away from the Gryffindor tower, if only because she would no longer have to listen to the gossip and rumours about the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Even Ron and Harry, whom she could normally get along with quite well, had not proven immune to the promise of fame and eternal glory of the tournament. Boys..

When she arrived on the third floor, she found it to be less deserted than the previous week. Coming to a halt beside the other student, a tall brunette who looked to be around her age, Daisy put her hands in the pockets of her robe. She was about to ask her for the whereabouts of Mr. Filch when a loud clashing of metal against metal resounded in the empty hallways, followed by a string of curses.

'Now you've done it Peeves! This time I'll get Dumbledore ban you for good, mark my words!'

Listening to the caretaker's retreating footsteps, Daisy wondered whatever it was the poltergeist had done this time – and, more importantly, if it meant that she was excused from her detention. Once again, however, she was stopped from voicing her thoughts. Mrs. Norris, what Daisy had learned was the cat's name, had sneaked into the hallway, keeping an eye on them.

'How much I would want to give that cat a good kick,' she murmured, unconsciously speaking her thoughts out loud.

The brunette beside her smiled timidly, but didn't say anything.

'So…' Daisy started, soon becoming uncomfortable with the silence 'I'm Daisy, by the way. Daisy McCalman.'

'I know who you are!' The brunette's eyes had brightened and, for a moment forgetting her shyness, openly stared at the Gryffindor. Then, clearly remembering herself, she blushed and looked down. 'I mean, I have heard about you. You see, my brother is in Gryffindor as well.' At Daisy's silence, she continued to explain herself. 'His name is Bryan Ackerly, he was in your Transfiguration class.'

Realization dawned on Daisy as she remembered the insecure boy with whom she had been partnered up in her first class, after professor McGonagall had explicitly asked him not to set something on fire. _Again_. 'I remember him. For a moment, I was afraid he'd die of excitement when I turned that match into a needle.' Chuckling at the memory, she shook her head. 'It's good to meet you..'

'Amanda,' the brunette provided, a smile on her lips. 'I'm glad I don't have to serve detention on my own. Or worse, with a Slytherin..'

It was only then that Daisy took a look at the girl's robes and noticed the black and yellow of her tie. A Hufflepuff. 'What did you do?'

'What?'

'I mean, what did you do to get in detention? I thought they said Hufflepuffs weren't trouble makers.'

Amanda turned a bright red at this and, in her haste to get the words out, stumbled over them. 'We aren't!' Looking down at the ground, Daisy could see the girl's visage turn an even brighter shade of red. 'I was on my way to Potion's class when I got lost. I swear one minute I was in the right corridor and then suddenly it changed. Snape, of course, didn't believe me and gave me detention.'

'Snape's an arse,' Daisy agreed, thinking back on all her own encounters with the Potion Master. True, he had not given her detention _yet_, but he had already abducted points for talking, answering and breathing too loud to his liking. All under the guise of 'disrespecting the professor'. Her favourite was of course the time when Snape had loudly complained about the new defence against the dark arts teacher and had questioned Dumbledore's sanity for hiring such a crack-brainer like professor Moody. Knowing that Snape was after the position, Daisy had innocently wondered out loud how tremendously batty the other applicants must have been, for someone like Moody to be accepted. Although Snape had not directly acknowledged her personal attack, he did deduct thirty-five points from Gryffindor for 'talking out of turn' – her record so far.

'What about you?' the Hufflepuff asked, dragging Daisy back to the present. 'What did you do to end up here?'

'I jumped Malfoy,' Daisy said, simply, as if that were the most logical thing in the world.

'You did _what_?' Her face was a mixture between disbelief and disgust. 'I know he's good looking and all, but I didn't think you – I mean a Gryffindor of all th…-'

'What? No, not like that, you twonk. I meant: I _literally_ jumped him.'

Twenty minutes later found the two girls, who had been mere strangers before that night, with tummy aches from all their laughter and a new-found friendship. And coming upon that sight after half an hour of playing chase with Peeves, Mr. Filch dismissed the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for the night, wanting nothing more than to retire for the night himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hey guys, welcome back to chapter 8. Firstly I want to appologize for taking so long to get this chapter up, but I am in the middle of my exams and had to study since I didn't do anything the rest of this semester. On top of that, I also had a lot of group projects which had to be finished. I will try to get the next chapter done by next week and - with school out of the way - hope to resume my normal updating pace of one chapter a week. Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 8

A wave of cold was what woke Daisy up that morning and she growled loudly. With a huff of indignation, she sat up in her bed, looking pointedly at the brunette who was currently holding the covers of Daisy's bed in her hands.

'We have forty minutes until classes start,' Hermione said simply, turning away to put the last of her things into her shoulder bag – and give the other girl some privacy.

Although she'd vowed to go to bed early the former night, like all other nights at Hogwarts, piles of homework and due essays had had her working into the early hours of the morning. Then, when Daisy had finally gotten the last bit of homework finished and had literally dragged herself to bed, sleep wouldn't come to her. Despite her exhaustion, her mind seemed to be unable to rest after the stressful day she'd had. She was dead-tired – and she had the bags underneath her eyes to prove it.

Smirking at her reflection as she started to untangle her hair, Daisy pushed all worries about her appearance aside, knowing the best she could do today was just survive.

'I'm leaving in two minutes.'

'I know, I know.' Daisy threw down the hair brush and quickly swept her hair up in what she hoped was a decent looking bun. With the short length of her hair and the complete lack of energy she had, this was as well as she could manage. After a last quick glance in the mirror, she followed Hermione out of the door.

'Well don't you just look cheery,' Harry commented, a grin on his face, as she and the other girl joined Harry and Ron at the bottom of the stairs.

'Sod off, Harry.'

'I was just saying, you look like you only woke up this very minute.'

'She did,' Hermione answered with a huff. 'And she would have still been sleeping, were it not for me. Really Daisy, you should really stop oversleeping every morning.'

'I don't do it on purpose,' Daisy defended herself, rubbing her temples in an attempt to soothe the upcoming headache. 'I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night.'

As they entered the Great Hall, the first thing Daisy noted was how _clean_ everything looked. Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, she noticed that the four house tables had been extended to seat at least fifteen more students each and it was only then that she remembered what day it was. Today the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would arrive. What a joy.

'Daisy, you did not happen to have looked into the Conductor theory, did you?'

Growing a little red, she had to admit that she hadn't. Ever since the news of her being a creature of mythical nature had been dropped on her, she had kind of avoided any and all confrontation with information on said nature. In fact, when she could help it, she had even tried to force it out of her mind because – truthfully – having to feel like a parasite for absorbing other people's magic really wasn't all that. 'Why?'

'For no reason,' Hermione said hastily, shaking her messy curls. 'So eh.. what class do you have first?'

* * *

If Daisy was honest with herself, she knew Hermione knew more than she was letting on. It didn't take a rocket scientist to find that out, really, since the brunette was the worst possible liar. But still not ready to face whatever it meant to be a Conductor and to know what came with the package, she'd let it slide. But now, as she sat in Defence Against the Dark Arts, idly watching the minutes tick by, a feeling of uneasiness was eating away at her. What if Hermione had found something important? What if there was a catch to having the unlimited power to absorb magic?

'Ah Miss McCalman, it's good that I catch you alone.' Daisy looked up at the sound of the professor's voice, surprised to find the lesson over and the other students already making their way out of the room.

Bollocks, she thought, straightening up in her seat as she put on a smile. It was to think that one day she would be called out on her general distractedness in class. She had just hoped it wouldn't be by professor Moody, who somehow always provided her with a general feeling of unease. 'What do you want to talk to me about, professor?'

'Can you tell me what today's lesson was about, McCalman?'

A long silence ensued and Daisy was forced to admit to the truth. 'No professor.'

'And Monday's lesson, can you tell me what subject we covered on Monday?'

'No professor.'

He grumbled, then nodded. 'Like I thought.' Then he limped to the front of the class, where he brought out a round object the size of a tennis ball from one of the chests and placed it in the middle of his desk. '_Carpe Retractum_,' he spoke the words carefully and after that demonstrated the accompanying wand wave.

As he nodded towards her, she quickly got out her own wand and, without hesitation, imitated both the professor's wave and pronunciation. Within a matter of microseconds, the tennis ball-like object had crossed the length of the classroom and had flown into her free hand.

Although Daisy herself had expected nothing less than the spell to work the first time round, it surprised her that Mad Eyed Moody didn't seem surprised either. In fact, although his fake blue eye was still staring into his eye socket, the other was now trained upon her with a look of interest. 'In all of my years as an auror at the Ministry of Magic, Miss McCalman, I have never met any wizard or witch capable of learning spells in one try.' He looked at her pointedly, as if to encourage her to speak. When she did not, he continued. 'Professor Dumbledore has spoken to me about you, said you would be moved from first to fourth year by Christmas. What he failed to inform me of, however, is how you are able to do that.'

Before she could start her incredible and reluctant story, Daisy was reminded of a conversation she'd had on one of her first days at Hogwarts. It had been only moments after she herself had found out her true nature and it was then, when she was still slightly in shock, that professor Dumbledore had impressed those words on her. "_I suggest you only disclose this secret to those that you trust_". With professor Dumbledore's words still resonating in her mind, she swallowed and looked up to meet Alastor Moody's impatient eye. Whether it was his almost sinister sense of humour, the double meaning to the things he'd say at times or just the general feeling of distrust she felt around him that made her say the next words was not clear, but she felt no remorse as she lied, the words tumbling easily and smoothly from her lips. 'I suppose I'm just a fast learner, professor.'

Without waiting for his response, she grabbed her bag and fled from the classroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hi guys! My apologies for this being such a short chapter, but it's kind of a filler. Anyway, hope you will still enjoy it and don't forget to tell me what you think. Also, if you are planning to write a story but are still waiting for the Angel of Inspiration to strike you, take a look at my Ideas up for Adoption section!**

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Chapter 9

'I really don't see how watching two other schools arrive can be worth risking the health of all of our own students,' Daisy huffed as she pulled her warm cloak a little bit tighter around her body. They were currently standing outside of the castle, close to where she herself had arrived only months ago. How long ago it seemed...

'A little bit of fresh air won't kill you, I'm sure. Relax.'

'You wouldn't be half as relaxed as I am if you had a Potions exam in two hours.' She gave the Hufflepuff a look. 'Even if you studied twice as much as I have, which I'm sure you would have done.'

Amanda smiled. 'That's true, but it won't do you any good complaining about the arrival of.. oh.' Her eyes grew big as she stared at the growing dark spot appearing at the horizon. Shaking Daisy's arm to get her attention, they watched – along with the rest of Hogwarts – as the dark spot grew and eventually, changed into the shape of a.. carriage?

'You've got to be shitting me.'

As the powder-blue carriage hit the ground with a large thump, the students all grew silent, eager to find out what was inside. For a moment, time seemed to be frozen and nobody moved or even breathed. Then, the door opened.

Standing on the tips of her toes, Daisy could only just see the outline of an enormously large woman dressed in what had to be the ugliest black dress she had ever seen. Her excessive jewellery glittered in the last rays of sunlight as she turned to professor Dumbledore, who had come to her side. Taking her place beside him, she looked even taller than she had before.

It was then that the carriage door opened once again and twenty or so students began to file out. Twenty well-dressed, beautiful and _very_ feminine students. Daisy was sure that in that moment, every Hogwarts girl's self-esteem took a hit. Before she had a chance to comment on her own bruised ego, all attention turned to the other side of the school grounds, where a mast suddenly appeared in the middle of the Black Lake. Surely things couldn't get any weirder than that..

However, once again before she had even the time to voice her thoughts, a large ship emerged from the dark depths of the Black Lake and she was dumb-struck. Although she had now lived for more than a month at Hogwarts, somehow magic still seemed to take her by surprise.

First emerging from within the ship's bowels was a tall and thin man, with black hair and a matching goatee. His silver fur robes blew in the wind as he set foot ashore, where he was greeted warmly by professor Dumbledore. After some hastily exchanged words, figures once again appeared on the ship's deck and this time, a delegation of young men crossed the gangway. All tall and older-looking, Daisy could practically hear the Hogwarts females sighing at the appearance of these young man.

Then, as soon as the wizarding schools had arrived, they were all on their way back into the castle, where a warm welcoming meal would be awaiting the foreigners.

~~

As she hurried into the hallway, hoping against hopes she wasn't late for her second year Potions exam, Daisy noticed a boy standing next to the door to the Potions classroom. Judging from his dark, warm clothes, she could only guess that he was one of the Durmstrang students. She wondered why he was stood there, all alone in one of the deepest, darkest parts of the school, but pushed it from her mind. It was not her business and besides, she didn't want to be scorned by professor Snape for being late. Therefore, she purposefully strode past him, not paying him a second glance, and reached out for the door knob.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' The boy said, his Eastern European accent making his w's sound like v's.

Daisy eyed the other student curiously, wondering why he felt like he should concern himself with her business. She took in his thin, but muscular build and thought to herself that he didn't at all look like a student, having guessed him to be much older. Studying his dark hair and matching eyes, she only then recognized him as the athlete Ron had gone on and on – and _on_ – about during dinner. A Seeker, if she remembered correctly.

She was about to open the door anyway, deciding to ignore his interruption, when she heard voices from inside. So professor Snape had a visitor, she thought surprised. Dropping her bag on the ground, Daisy let out a huff as she realized that she could have spent her time studying – or doing anything else useful. If only he had informed her _before_ she had hurried herself to get down here on time.

The silence in the hallway soon became unbearable and she was considering just leaving when the door to the classroom burst open suddenly. A tall and thin man, dressed all in dark, strode from the room, not paying her or the boy – Viktor Krum – any attention. Even in his hurry, she recognized him as the Headmaster of the Durmstrang school of magic, Igor Karkaroff. The Seeker gave her a polite nod, before following the older man out of the dungeons. She wondered what that was all about..

'McCalman, will you come in or do I have to deduct points for dallying?'


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hello everyone. Welcome back to another chapter. I hope you're all having a nice week and I wish all of you who are still in the middle of exams good luck. Enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think.**

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Chapter 10

Staring out over the Black Lake, her legs crossed beneath her and the pebble she had wanted to throw still motionless in her hand, Daisy for the first time since she'd arrived at Hogwarts found herself longing to be home. She had missed her Aunt and Uncle, of course, and the privacy of having her own bedroom, but it was the longing for normalcy much more than anything else that made her wish to return to their small house in the town of Livingston.

Last night had had her returning to the Gryffindor common room exhausted and brain dead, the Potions exam having used up all her remaining energy of the day. All she'd wanted to do was crawl into bed and recharge for what was sure to be another day packed with homework – even if it was a Saturday. But when she'd arrived in the common room, she'd found one of the fauteuils at the hearth still occupied by a familiar brunette and she'd pushed the exhaustion to the back of her mind for a little bit longer.

Clearing her throat to make herself known, Hermione had tried to flee to the dormitory as soon as she'd noticed the other girl, mumbling some excuse about having fallen asleep.

'Hermione, wait,' Daisy had said, taking a hold of the brunette's upper arm to stop her flight. 'I know you have been avoiding me all day.'

The other girl had made a strangled noise, then smiled unconvincingly. 'Avoiding you? That's simply ridiculous. I am just a bit busy with my essay for History of Magic, I am sure you must understand that.'

Daisy ignored her lie, knowing Hermione had turned the essay in ages ago. 'You read something about the Conductor, didn't you?' She'd guessed. 'Something bad.'

For a moment, Hermione had remained quiet, as if debating whether or not she would tell the truth. Then, at last admitting her defeat, she'd sighed. 'Yesterday I looked up more information about you.. in the Restricted Section. There wasn't a lot I could find about you there, either, and most texts seemed to contradict each other..-'

'But?'

'But, I found some things that they all seemed to agree on. And you're not going to like it.'

Daisy had been prepared for a catch to having an unlimited access to magic, but somehow Hermione's next words had shaken her to her core and haunted her throughout the night into the morning. As stated before, she had been prepared for a catch, but she'd never expected it to be this bad.

Firstly, Hermione had explained to her the essence of magic, which was said to be the life force of witches and wizards. Deprived of their magic they would die, quite simply put. It was not so much the magic making the body work, as the magic keeping it working and altering its state of functioning. Normal, non-magical people relied on the same anatomical processes, only without the magic. The Conductor, being neither completely magical or non-magical, could switch between the two states if necessary, though at a price. The way Hermione had explained it, the Conductor would function very much the same way as any other wizard or witch when around magic, but when deprived of magic, he would have to switch back to the normal, Muggle way of keeping the body functioning. This, by itself, was not so bad, but what she'd said next had stopped Daisy from voicing her relief.

'Switching between the two processes takes energy, lots of energy. Therefore it will cause you to feel weak for some time, before the Muggle system takes over completely. However, if the switch is too sudden and the system doesn't have enough time to take over, it might even cause death.'

Unfortunately for Daisy, that had not been the end of it. In fact, that had only been the beginning.

'The second thing I found was, well, rather vague. From what I gathered from one of the texts was that the Conductor absorbs magic from the people around him. Even magic that is released.'

'And?' Daisy had prodded on, knowing that this could certainly not be all.

'It means,' she sucked in a deep breathe 'that you cannot be killed - not by magic at least. If I understood correctly, you would simply absorb any harmful magic that would be used against you. That isn't to say, of course, that you can't be killed in a non-magical way.'

'Well that's good news, right?'

Hermione's face remained pensive and Daisy's optimism died down quickly. 'Yes, but it means you will have to be careful. If anyone finds out what you are and, more importantly, what that means, you'll be vulnerable.'

She had nodded, still too overwhelmed to say anything more on the matter. 'Was that all?'

Once again, the brunette had looked hesitant. Putting a stray curl behind her ear, she'd started softly. 'Actually, there is one more thing.' A calculating look at Daisy's face had her continuing, albeit still a bit hesitantly. 'You told me you live with your Aunt and Uncle. How old were you when.. when your parents died?'

'Three.'

Hermione had nodded, taking in this information as if it was somehow vital. 'Do you know what they died from? Illness, an accident.. murder?'

'They were found mugged and killed in an alley in Edinburgh, where we lived at the time.' Swallowing away the lump that was already forming at the back of her throat,

Daisy had shook her head. 'I don't see how this is of any importance to anything Conductor related.'

Hermione had bitten her lip. 'And then you moved in with your Aunt?'

She'd nodded 'Yes, but..-'

'And these are from your father's side of the family?'

'My Mum's. But Hermione, what does this all matter?'

'It matters because you're not just the Conductor by chance. It's passed on through generations, meaning that one of your parents must have been as well. Which makes me think that, perhaps, their deaths was more than just a simple robbery.'

Hermione had excused herself after that, leaving Daisy alone in the empty common room to her thoughts. She'd stared into the fire, suddenly longing for advice from the parents she'd never missed. Had they known of Hogwarts? Had they known that their daughter would have the same condition and if so, had they purposely placed her in a non-magical environment? And if what Hermione said was true and their deaths had been anything but accidental, then what did that entail for her own safety?

Naturally, she had not gotten any sleep that night and when dawn had come at last, she had moved outside to the Black Lake, where she was still pondering over the same matters that had haunted her throughout the night.

Daisy looked down at the pebble in her hand, suddenly wondering when she'd forgotten all about the small stone. Judging from the sky, it was already later than she'd thought, which meant that she had wasted more time thinking than she could afford. Before she could make to stand up, though, someone dropped down on the boulder beside her.

'Hey, I missed you at breakfast.'

She looked at the offered sandwich and smiled earnestly, thinking of how lucky she was to have such good friends. 'Thank you.'

Amanda studied her curiously 'Are you alright? You seem a bit out of it.'

'I just didn't get a lot of sleep tonight,' which wasn't a lie.

The Hufflepuff nodded, then looked down at her hands. 'I know we have not been friends for a very long time, but if you, you know, ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you.'

'I know.' And she did. She'd tell Amanda about what she was one day, when the time was right. Just not now.

'You know, you missed quite a lot this morning. With the Goblet of Fire and all.'

Despite her gloomy thoughts and herself, that name peaked her interest – if only because of how stupid it sounded – and she looked up. 'The Goblet of _what_?'

'Fire. It will select the competitors, for the tournament.'

Right, the tournament. 'And how exactly is a _cup_ going to do tha..-' She stopped mid-word, suddenly noticing the figures crossing the Hogwarts' grounds, wandering in their direction. 'Oh Hell.' Daisy had no trouble recognizing him, with his platinum blonde hair reflecting the daylight almost like snow would – Draco Malfoy. He and his sidekicks hadn't noticed them yet, but with them coming nearer and nearer to the girls' hiding place, she knew it was but a matter of time.

'… absolutely ridiculous they've set an age limit. Father already mentioned they applied stricter rules to the tournament, which is nonsense if you ask me.'

Daisy stared at him, not knowing whether he annoyed her more with his arrogance or amused her more with the way he idolised his father. Nevertheless, she found herself wishing she could burn holes through him with solely her hatred fueling her fierce gaze.

'..Otherwise I would have put my name in, of course.'

_Of course_, she scoffed, knowing the Slytherin would have wanted to sign up for the tournament as much as she would. He was a coward who valued his own skin too much to endanger himself in such a way.

It was at that moment that the three boys noticed them and a smirk crept onto their leader's face.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Welcome and welcome back everyone! Firstly, I want to thank Sanna11 for her everlasting support; you are amazing! Secondly, I want to once again remind you that I lovelovelove reviews! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 11

'_Please_ stay out of trouble this time, Daisy,' Amanda whispered to her, watching as the three Slytherins neared. 'He'll only try to rile you up. Don't allow him the pleasure.'

'Don't worry,' Daisy said, not taking her narrowed eyes off of the blonde 'It'll be fine.'

'Promise me you're not going to pound on him again. Promise me you won't land us _both_ in detention.'

Before she had the chance to promise anything – or not – the boys had closed in on them. 'I see you're still around, McCalman. Pity, I'd thought after your savage attack on me they would at least expel you.'

'Still having nightmares about that evening I take it then, Malfoy?' She matched his smirk with one of her own.

He didn't seem at all bothered by her comment – or perhaps he simply chose to ignore it. Instead, he continued as if she hadn't even interrupted him. 'Then again, I shouldn't be surprised that you would stoop so low as to physically attack me. After all, people like you could hardly be considered civilized.'

'People like me?'

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but before she could even attempt to take it back, his next word stopped her dead in her tracks. 'Mudbloods.'  
Even though the term technically did not apply to her, the insult still stung. The fact that he actually believed that whether or not someone's parents possessed magic mattered was idiotic beyond belief and knowing that he felt better than her because of it made her hot with anger.

Daisy was ready to jump on him right then and there, even with his body guard friends standing only two feet away from him. She desperately wanted to, too, which made her control over her emotions all the weaker. But Amanda's plea was still in the back of her mind and the memories of two evenings of mind-numbing detention with Mr Filch still fresh in her memory and so she bit her lip. Willing the anger away, she spoke through clenched teeth. 'Piss off, Malfoy.'

'Hit a nerve, haven't I?'

'Malfoy, bugger off or I _will_ hit something.'

He quirked a blonde eyebrow, not looking in the least impressed. It was to both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff's surprise, then, when he nodded to his two goons and they retreated.

Amanda let out a sigh of relief.

She had half a mind to just skip dinner that night and to instead take her chances in finding back the way to the kitchens. However, knowing that the possibility of her finding her way _anywhere_ was close to non-existent – and not really enjoying the prospect of having to go to bed on an empty stomach – Daisy let herself be dragged to the Great Hall by Harry and Ron, facing what was probably going to be the worst meal at Hogwarts since her arrival. Not only was Ron still talking non-stop about Viktor _bloody_ Krum, the only other topic that ever came up was the Tournament. After she had relayed the personal encounter with the Bulgarian Seeker, Ron's eyes had practically bulged out of their sockets and the ginger haired boy had demanded that the next time she'd run into him, she'd get his autograph. She didn't tell him that she'd probably never talk to Krum again, instead letting the conversation drift to what was waiting for them in the Great Hall.

Taking their seats at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Harry immediately lapsed into conversation with the Weasley twins, Fred and George, about the Goblet of Fire. Tuning out the dreadful subject, Daisy turned around to wave at Amanda, who was already seated at her own table. Like the Gryffindor table, the Hufflepuff table was extended to accommodate a dozen of the beautiful French girls from Beauxbatons. Gazing over at the other two tables, she noticed a similar arrangement for the young men – boys really seemed an inappropriate way to refer to them – of Durmstrang. Letting her eyes wander over the Slytherin table, where she located the whereabouts of the Quidditch celebrity, she accidentally made eye-contact with a certain blonde and she made it a point to glare daggers at him. Then, when he returned the gesture satisfactory, Daisy turned back to her own table.

Before she had even the time to catch the topic of conversation – which was probably either Viktor Krum, Quidditch or the Tournament – professor Dumbledore called their attention to the front of the Hall. Starting another speech about the Triwizard Tournament, Daisy was surprised that this time, there was actually some action involved. In fact, although she would never admit to being interested in anything revolving around the Tournament, she was rather intrigued when the cup – _Goblet_ – started spewing out names from its contents. First was Viktor Krum for Durmstrang, which – if she were to believe the whispers at the Gryffindor table – wasn't really a surprise. Next came Fleur Delacour, a beautiful, slim blonde, for the Beauxbatons institute. Hogwarts, which was the last to have its champion chosen, was holding its breath while the last piece of parchment flew out of the Goblet, into Dumbledore's hand. Even Daisy, who really didn't care all that much about the outcome, found herself on the edge of her seat.

'Cedric Diggory,' the Headmaster called out at last and everyone watched as a boy from the Hufflepuff table stood up. His dark hair and grey eyes, along with his chiselled features made him a sight for sore eyes and, although she did not know him personally, from what Daisy had heard about the boy he was as friendly as he was handsome. Amanda had brought him up once or twice in a conversation, she believed.

When all the champions were called, Daisy was about to turn her attention back to the table, where she was hoping food would soon appear, when suddenly the flames inside the Goblet again became red and another piece of paper was shot into the air.

Dumbledore, with an expression that was as surprised as that of the students in the Hall, caught it easily in mid-air. Furrowing his brows, he looked up at the House tables. 'Harry Potter,' he said, calmly.

Silence filled the Great Hall and every person – teacher, Hogwarts and foreign student alike – turned his or her eyes to look at the Gryffindor table. The boy in question himself seemed to be as dazed and surprised as the others and did not respond until Dumbledore called out his name a second time. Then, after some urging of Hermione, he started making his way to the front. Hundreds of heads followed his form as he disappeared into a back chamber and then, chaos broke loose.

Some people were merely surprised that a fourth champion had been chosen and wondered what had gone wrong. Others wondered how Harry Potter had managed to sneak his way into the Tournament as a fourth, under aged, champion. The last, unfortunately biggest part of the whispers begrudged not only Harry, but also Hogwarts, for increasing its odds of winning the Tournament.

The students at the Gryffindor table were uncharacteristically silent, as they normally had an opinion about everything. They didn't know what to think and knowing Harry, they didn't want to think the worst of the situation. Perhaps there had been a mistake?

'I can't believe it,' Ron finally said, his gaze still fixed on the door through which the champions had disappeared moments ago. 'I can't believe he found a way to put his name in and he didn't tell me.'

'I'm sure it was not like that,' Hermione said, though her voice betrayed that even she, the smartest witch of her age, didn't know what to think.

Soon, food appeared on the tables, but most students were still too occupied with talk of the Tournament to notice, let alone eat. Looking around, Daisy even found that she was one of the only three Gryffindors eating – the other two being Fred and George Weasley. Although Harry's name coming out of the Goblet didn't sit her well either, she knew that the only way to find out the truth was to ask the boy, himself.

That is, if he himself even knew what was going on.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hey everyone. I hope you've all had a nice week! Before we go about this chapter, I would like to thank _themysteriousnicole_, _Liz_ and _Celeritous _for writing a review. It really motivates me and I am glad to know that you guys liked it. And now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 12

After a rather chaotic dinner, all the Gryffindor students had gone upstairs to their common room, where talk about the Tournament – and more precisely; the fourth champion – had continued. In contrary to the other students, the Gryffindors didn't think the situation to be all bad, no matter whether or not they believed Harry had put his name in himself. Some of them even expressed their pride in having an own champion and being the only ones to figure out how to work around the age limit. When at last the fourth champion had arrived in the tower, he had been practically engulfed by congratulations, which he only seemed to accept half-heartily, and questions, which he all answered in the same manner ("I didn't put my name in!").

It was only when she lay in bed, when all the hubbub had finally died down for the night, that Daisy remembered her earlier worries. All sleepiness had vanished from her mind and she once again found herself thinking over that one question time and again. What had really happened to her parents?

Up until she came to Hogwarts, Daisy had never given much thought to who her biological parents were and what had happened to them. After all, she could not remember them and with her Aunt and Uncle treating her as well as any real parents would, she had never actually missed her Mum and Dad.

When she was younger, she had once asked about their deaths and she had seen the newspaper article about the circumstances, but apart from that, she knew close to nothing about them. Her mother had worked in the city of Edinburgh, that she knew of what her Aunt had told her, but doing what and for who, she did not know. Now, she found herself wishing she had spent more time learning about perhaps the only people who could really understand her situation. But with no grandparents still alive and her father having been an only child, her Aunt and Uncle where the only ones she had left.

An idea suddenly sparked and she sat up in bed. Although she might not be able to talk to her parents, she could speak to her mother's brother. He might know more about what had happened that fateful night.

Shoving Hermione's slumbering cat off of her legs – and earning herself an indignant meow in the process –, Daisy slipped out of bed and grabbed her wand from her nightstand. Muttering a quiet Lumos, she threw on a black robe over her pajamas to ward off the autumn cold. She was already halfway to the door when a voice in the dark stopped her.

'Where are you going?' Parvati Patil now sat up in her bed, looking at Daisy through sleepy eyes.

'Just got to do something before I go to bed,' she whispered, hoping they wouldn't wake the others up. Hermione would flip if she knew she was sneaking out.

'Students aren't allowed to be out after curfew, you know. It could get you in detention.'

'I won't be gone long,' she promised, then quickly slipped out through the door. Letting out a sigh of relief as she descended the stairs, Daisy was momentarily distracted from her own worries as she noticed the other person in the common room. He was already in his pajamas, his hair looking disheveled, but his face looked pensive.

'Couldn't sleep, huh?' Daisy guessed as she went to sit on the opposite chair's armrest.

Harry looked up from his ponderings and flashed her half a smile. 'I see you couldn't either.'

'I remembered something I had to do and I know that if I don't do it now, I will not get round to it tomorrow,' she shrugged, then turned serious again. 'I am sorry that people don't believe you.'

Now it was Harry's turn to shrug his shoulders. 'I don't care about people. I just wish my friends would believe me.'

Daisy knew he was talking about Ron and how he had become angry with Harry, even after Hermione had repeatedly tried to make him see reason. 'He'll come around, Harry. Ron's a stubborn bastard from time to time, but he won't throw away your friendship for something so stupid. And if he doesn't see reason by Christmas, I will slap some sense into that idiot myself.'

Harry did have to laugh at this, then shook his head. 'I think I'm going to bed. You know, try to sleep a bit. You should go do whatever you were going to do.' Standing from his chair by the fire, he waved Daisy a good night and left for the boys' dormitories.

Daisy waited until the door closed, before she slowly got up from her seat and, after checking once more if it was safe, made her way to the portrait entrance. As she pushed it open, she made it a point to block out anything the Fat Lady would say and quickly disappeared into the night.

Having never actually been to the Owlery, coupled with her horrible sense of orientation _and_ direction, it took Daisy almost half an hour to make it to the tower. By that time, she had pulled her robe closer around her and cursed herself for having put on flats; her toes were practically freezing off!

Stepping into the Owlery, she was stopped mid-step by the sight in front of her. The first thing she saw was blond hair. Then, she noticed the letter that he'd just attached to one of the owls' feet. As of yet, he didn't seem to have noticed her, instead watching after the departing owl and Daisy couldn't help the smirk that was creeping up onto her face.

'Dear Father,' she drawled in an arrogant matter, trying to imitate the Slytherin's normal manner of speaking. To her delight, he turned around in surprise, clearly not having been aware of her presence until she spoke. 'I can't believe they selected Harry Potter: it's just not fair!' She made it a point to sound extra whiny at that point, going a little overboard with her act. 'I wish you were here Father, so I could cry in your lap and you could buy out the Ministry to make _me_ a champion as well. With all my love, your wonderboy.' It wasn't exactly the ending she was going for, but since she only knew the boy's last name, she had to do some quick thinking at that point. It hadn't really mattered anyway, because when she opened her eyes to gauge his reaction, she was pleased to see that it was him who was riled up this time. To her disappointment, however, he managed to keep his cool.

'What are you doing here, McCalman? Potter let you off the leash for now?'

Scoffing, she crossed her arms in front of her. 'Oh shut it, Malfoy, you'll never be the man your mother is.'

This seemed to hit a nerve as the Slytherin suddenly whipped out his wand and took a menacing step into Daisy's direction. It was only now that she noticed his hair wasn't slicked back as usual and that he actually looked kind of.. could she say awful? 'Don't talk about my mother.'

'Or what?'

To say she was surprised when he sent a hex her way would have been an understatement. She had always figured Malfoy to be all talk and therefore didn't even have the time to whip her wand out, let alone use it to block the curse. As a reflex, though, her hand shot up in protection and somehow that gesture, coupled with the word _Protego_ running through her thoughts, caused the hex to reflect and instead hit against a stone pillar. Several owls flew from their resting places as the pillar crumbled to the ground.

'What the _bloo_..-' Before the Slytherin could finish that sentence, the sound of a booming voice, accompanied by a familiar thump broke off whatever curse word would have passed his lips.

'Who's there?'

'Profe..-' Daisy had clamped her hand around his mouth, trying to prevent the boy from signing her death sentence. It was too late, however, as the sound of a thump could already be heard coming in their direction.

He ripped his mouth free from her hold. 'I hope you'll get kicked out of Hogwarts when they hear,' he smirked.

'Malfoy, I swear: if you tell him I will make sure the entire school knows you've got your arse kicked by a girl.'

'And you think they'll believe you,' he scoffed.

Already, the thumping of professor Moody's wooden leg could be heard on the winding staircase that led up to the Owlery. Desperately, Daisy looked between the doorway and the Slytherin boy, hoping one of both would spontaneously disappear. When that didn't happen, she knew her time was running out. '_Please_ Malfoy, I beg you. Don't tell him what I did. I.. I'll do anything!'

'What are the two of you doing here?'


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Hello dear readers and welcome back to the thirteenth chapter of The Conductor. Have fun reading and don't forget to write a review to let me know what you thought of it.**

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Chapter 13

Draco Malfoy was by no means a stupid boy. As was stated before; he might have been lazy, spoiled and manipulative, but stupid was never something that applied to him. And that's how he knew there was more to the Gryffindor's desperate plea. Something far more important. The girl wasn't just afraid of getting in detention – hell, at times it seemed she was almost begging for it. If he didn't know any better, Draco would almost say that she seemed afraid of the professor himself.

He had, of course, been exaggerating when he talked about her expulsion from Hogwarts just to get her knickers in a twist. Truth be told, he thought it more likely that the school would praise her for using advanced, wandless magic than expel her. She might even get a _bloody_ medal.

'Well?'

'I came here to answer a letter, professor,' he spoke smoothly, his voice never betraying his racing mind. 'Miss McCalman,' it physically pained him to refer to her in a polite manner 'arrived moments after me. I noticed her discomfort around the owls and was about to offer her my help when she was startled by a departing owl.'

Moody kept his eyes locked on Draco's face, as if searching for any sign that he was lying. Not that he would find any; he had perfected his emotionless mask years ago. 'I heard a commotion.'

Draco was about to open his mouth again, to sprout another lie, but the girl beat him to it. 'That would have been my fault, professor. I had my wand in my hand, you see. Just in case, and in my surprise, I must have fired a spell.'

If his dislike for her wasn't so overwhelming, Draco might have been impressed by the easiness in which she told the untruth. From her downcast eyes and worried face, to the slight tremble in her voice, there was nothing to indicate that what the girl had just said wasn't the truth.

The professor, persuaded by the unlikely occasion of a Slytherin and Gryffindor agreeing on _anything_, nodded. 'You are lucky that neither of you got hurt. I will escort both of you back to your respective dorms.'

Draco, relieved that they got off without any punishment, didn't have to be told twice. Obediently, and without another word shared among them, the two students trailed after the professor, both not believing their luck. It was only when professor Moody, at last, stopped at the entrance of the dungeons, that he spoke.

'I expect to see you in detention Monday evening. I will sent you both an owl about the when and where.'

~ Daisy ~

Sunday passed by quite uneventfully for Daisy. So much so, in fact, that after sitting down for dinner, she was almost beginning to think that last night's events had been nothing more than a dream. Almost, for there had been one incident that had given away that _something_ was different.

That afternoon, as Daisy had been on her way to the library to get an almost-due essay finally finished, Amanda and her had been in deep conversation about that Thursday's Divination class. Since Daisy hadn't been allowed to follow the class – orders from Dumbledore – Amanda had taken the task upon herself to inform her Gryffindor friend of every strange prediction that professor Trelawney made, which happened to be quite a lot. Listening to Amanda recount the details of her own supposed death, Daisy hadn't noticed the infamous Slytherin trio until she quite literally bumped into them. Instead of his usual snide remark, Malfoy surprised her by resuming his walking without another word – of course not without glaring at her. She had stared after them, baffled, and had only snapped back to reality when Amanda shook her arm softly.

Although it was obvious that the Slytherin had not just changed his ways overnight, it was clear even by the way that he glared at her that last night had been more than a mere dream.

'I still don't understand why you weren't allowed to follow Divination,' Ron said, chewing his sausage thoughtfully.

'I told you, Ronald, if she gets too close to professor Trelawney, she might unintentionally channel her _foresight_,' Hermione spit out the word, clearly showing how much she didn't belief in the professor's abilities.

'I know that,' he swallowed. 'I just don't understand why that would be such a bad thing.'

Before the brunette had the chance to launch into another explanation, a brown school owl landed in front of them. He dropped a letter next to Daisy's plate, then started to nibble on a piece of her dinner. Confused, and only a little bit curious, she picked up the folded piece of parchment and opened it to read its contents. _Meet me in the Owlery_. It didn't say who sent it, nor a time to go there. She didn't know what to think about it and she pulled up her eyebrow as she realised that the sender hadn't even asked for an answer: he or she already assumed she would be coming.

'Well, who's it from?'

Clutching the note in her hand, crumpling the parchment in the process, she stood from the table. 'It's from my Aunt and Uncle. I should write them back immediately.'

Without giving the others a chance to question her, she left the Great Hall.

The hallways of Hogwarts were eerily quiet as her feet led her to the upper floor. Everyone was still at dinner, combining their two favourite activities: eating and gossiping. It was to Daisy's surprise, then, when she heard the familiar thump of her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's wooden leg hitting the stone tiles. Once again, unrealistic alarm gripped her heart and she was about to move into an alcove when the man came into view.

'McCalman, I find you wandering around a lot lately.' It wasn't a question, but the real meaning behind his words was perfectly clear: what are you about this time.

'I never got to actually send my letter, professor.' She tried her hardest to look the older, shabby man in the eye, forcing herself not to shiver as his fake blue one looked right through her.

'Make sure I do not catch you out after curfew again, Miss McCalman.'

Taking that as her sign to leave, she gave the professor a nod before she hurried around the corner. By some stroke of luck, Daisy managed to get to the Owlery in one try and she was pleased to find out that her brain was capable of at least remembering important landmarks along the road. Who knew, by the end of her seventh year she might even find her way around the castle by herself.

A sense of déjà-vu overcame her as she stopped at the top of the stairs, in the doorway, staring at the blond haired boy already present in the room.

'So you decided to show up after all, McCalman?'

The words barely reached her; her surprise keeping her brain from connecting the sounds coming from the Slytherin's mouth to their meaning.

'What, cat got your tongue?'

Moving her head to shake the daze off, she scowled at him. 'Why am I here, Malfoy?'

'Because I told you to,' he said simply, as if that explained everything.

'You know what I meant.'

'Very well,' he said, moving closer to her. 'Let's talk about last night.'

'You made me come all this way to force a word of thanks out of me?'

'I saved your hide yesterday. I'm not a charity.'

'So you want me to pay you for what you did?'

He scoffed, looking at her as if she had just said something completely ridiculous. 'I don't want your money.'

Raising her eyebrow, she took a step forward as well, getting right in his face. 'Then what _do_ you want, Malfoy?'

'If my memory serves me right, I clearly remember you saying that you'd do _anything_ if only I'd keep my mouth shut against professor Moody.'

She didn't answer, knowing that the Slytherin was right: in her desperation, she would have done anything to shut the boy up. Now, with her rational head back on her shoulders, she cursed herself.

'Oh don't look at me like that, I'm not asking much. What I'm asking is just a small thing, really, hardly worthy of being called recompense.'

'Just get it out, Malfoy.'

'I want the truth about what happened last night. The _entire_ truth.'


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: First of all: I'm SO SORRY for the delay guys, especially after the support I got after last chapter. Last week a friend of mine came over from Germany and, as a good hostess, I of course had to show her around the Netherlands. I promise though that the next chapter will be uploaded on my normal time (Thursday/Friday) and I hope you'll forgive me. I want to thank _sanna11, Guest _and _FangedMe_ for the reviews, you guys are amazing! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 14

Before she had actually started her incredible story, Daisy had made the Slytherin swear not only to keep her secret from professor Moody, but from everyone else as well. He was not to ever speak of her true identity to anyone, nor to hint at it in front of others. His curiosity far outweighing his reluctance to do something so distinctly Muggle, he had eventually agreed on her terms and sworn a pinkie swear.

To her greatest surprise, Malfoy proved himself capable of keeping his annoying mouth shut for more than five minutes and throughout the explanation, had only interrupted her to clear some thing or another up. For the remainder of the time, he simply sat and, with an expression that bordered on marvel – though he would of course later deny it – listened to her recounting the details of her existence.

Looking back on it, she didn't really know what was the biggest surprise of the two: Malfoy actually being capable of listening or the feeling that it gave her to finally talk about it. Sure, Hermione, Harry and Ron also knew about her predicament, but since they knew almost as soon – if not sooner – as her, she hadn't really had the chance to actually get anything off her chest. And that's what she told him.

'That's quite pathetic, McCalman.. even for you.'

Shaking her head, Daisy was disappointed in herself for thinking that Malfoy could actually be a decent person. 'Can't you pretend to be nice for one minute?'

'If you wanted to have a shoulder to cry on, you should have gone to Potty or Weasel. We are not friends.'

She frowned, ignoring the casual insult towards the two Gryffindors. 'Well, Harry and Ron are not really my friends either. That's the point I guess. Harry, Ron and Hermione are friends, I'm just the person they took in out of pity.'

Malfoy didn't immediately answer and for a moment, she thought that he actually felt compassion for her. Of course, he would prove her wrong. 'I didn't think it was possible, but you just managed to get even more pathetic. You've got access to an unlimited amount of magic, you're probably more powerful than Voldemort and Dumbledore combined and you've got people that actually like to hang out with you. What are you even whining about?'

'Wow Malfoy, that almost sounded as a compliment.'

Standing up from his place on the ground, he send her a disgusted and semi-bored glance – a combination she had not previously thought possible. 'It was _not_ a compliment, I was just making a point. The only reason that we're here, after all, having a decent conversation, is because we made a deal. That's. It.'

Daisy stood as well, dusting her pants off and crossing her arms in front of her chest. 'I know you're a soulless, stupid little shit, Malfoy, you don't have to be afraid that I'll forget. Now, if we're done here I'd like to spend the last bit of my free Sunday in a place that does not smell of owl dung and inflated ego.'

'Now you mention it, I already thought you reeked a bit.'

'Urgh, you are impossible!' She stomped to the door. 'This conversation is over. Just hold your end of the deal or I will shove your foot so far up your arse that you will be able to taste the hairs on your toes. I hate you.'

The Slytherin had the nerve to look amused, but didn't respond to her threat. Instead, he smirked at her. 'I hate you, too, sweetheart.'

* * *

Monday morning brought Daisy another reminder that Saturday night's events had been, in fact, very real. She had been munching on a piece of toast, thinking of ways to get out of her Potions class with the third years, when hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall. Not expecting any mail herself – and finding her impending doom much more important than some stupid letters – she was only drawn from her thoughts when a yellow barn owl dropped a small piece of parchment onto her plate.

Daisy snatched it up before it could touch the spilled marmalade and, having a feeling who it might be from, inconspicuously glanced at the Slytherin table. To her surprise, she didn't find a certain blonde haired boy smirking at her, but found him staring at a very similar looking piece of paper. Quirking an eyebrow, she missed the dark eyes of someone else watching her as she turned back to the table.

Slowly folding it open, she found the message equally short as the letter she had received the day before. _7 pm, DADA classroom._

'Bugger,' she cursed under her breath, having completely forgotten the detention that had been looming over her head ever since that Saturday.

Although she had tried to curse in silence, some people had still looked up from their plates and Harry was looking at her curiously. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes, sorry,' she smiled sheepishly. 'I only just now realise that I have to serve detention tonight. And with Moody, no less, who knows what he'll think up for me to do.'

'Detention?' Hermione suddenly said, her attention clearly perked and her voice laced with disapproval. 'Whatever did you do this time?'

'It wasn't my fault, really. I was only going to send a letter, but then Malfoy ca..-'

'Malfoy?!'

'Yes, Ron, you don't have to shout it all across the Hall.'

'What the Hell were you doing with Malfoy?' The boy seemed to have momentarily forgotten his resentment of his friends, his hate and distrust for the Slytherin being too all-consuming to remain indifferent to the conversation.

'Nothing! I went to the Owlery, he went to the Owlery, we ran into each other, no big deal.'

'No offense, Daisy, but this is Malfoy we are talking about. And if he caused you detention then he must have done something.'

'Why do you guys read into this so much? Even if I said I liked the guy, if I said that we snogged. Hell, even if I would want to _bloody _marry the guy you wouldn't have the right to get angry at _me_ for that. Just because you have this life-long grudge towards him, doesn't mean you have to get angry at whatever person mentions his name.'

Grabbing the piece of parchment from the table and snatching her bag from the ground, she threw the Golden Trio one last glance before she stomped out of the Great Hall.

This was great. Just _great_. Not only did she work herself into a situation that made Malfoy blackmail her, she was now having a fight with three of the few people that actually cared for her. What was worse, Daisy knew that she was in the wrong. True, the way Ron had attacked her just for having breathed the same air as the Slytherin was unfair, but if she could have been just a little more understanding – a little less explosive – then all could have been solved with a small explanation. Now, thanks to her temperamental character, she was friendless and bound to get lost in the Hogwarts labyrinth.

Truly, this day could impossibly get worse.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: As promised, here's this week's chapter of the Conductor. It's a bit longer than you guys are used of me, but I just couldn't stop in the middle of this. I hope you like it and won't mind that I took some liberties with regard to Draco's character. There was really nothing in the books about how it was supposed to be, so I kind of went with what sounded best to me. You will understand what I mean at the end of the chapter haha. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Chapter 15

It was 6.45 pm and Daisy was just exiting the Hogwarts Kitchens, her stomach filled with soup, sweet potatoes and carrots and some of the best crème brûlée she had tasted in her life. In her pockets she had another three muffins, which she fully intended to eat after detention was over and her horrible day would most likely have reached its peak – or nadir, depending on the way you looked at it. After the scene she had made at breakfast, Daisy had left early for Potions class, knowing that chances of her getting lost on the way were unfortunately but all too real. And, true to her expectations, she had gotten lost, only arriving at the classroom when professor Snape had just opened the door.

As had been the case for the last sessions, the class was again paired up to work on the potion – this week the Girding Potion. This in itself wasn't that bad, since it meant that she could split the blame if she somehow managed to muck up, weren't it for the person with whom she had to work together.

Ginny Weasley had made it clear from the very first moment that they were introduced to each other that she disliked the older girl, even though there seemed to be no clear reason for it. That day, however, she seemed to have raised her dislike to an outright detesting, for even before Daisy took her seat the redhead started glaring daggers at her. Silently suspecting that the girl might have overheard the fight between her and Hermione and especially Ron – Ginny's brother – she decided to leave it be for now. Ginny Weasley being famous for her temperamental character, she really didn't want to add more detention to her schedule.

After the horrible day that she'd had so far, she didn't dare to show up for dinner, fearing Hermione and Ron's reaction, instead opting to have dinner in the Kitchens.

Stopping in front of the closed door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Daisy took some time to gather herself before she would go in. After all, if Malfoy would serve detention at the same time as her – something which she had a feeling that he would – then she needed all the patience she could manage to deal with him.

She did not get long to relax, for only moments later a familiar thumping echoed around the hallways and soon professor Moody came into view. Taking notice of her, he was about to say something when a patch of blonde caught her attention and Malfoy joined their small group.

Professor Moody simply nodded as a way of greeting, then opened the classroom door with a flick of his wand. Leading them inside, he lighted some candles with another flick. 'For your detention I will not have you copying textbooks or cleaning tables. I have something far more useful for you to do.' He paused for a moment and observed the two students, as if to ascertain himself of his next words. 'The Boggart that is used for practice has escaped, but he is somewhere in this room. I want you two to find him, weaken him and put him back in this chest,' he gestured towards a dark, heavy looking wooden chest. 'Now, if you have no more questions, you can report back to..-'

'Ehm professor?'

'What is it, Miss McCalman?'

'Well ehm.. I..-'

'Well, get it out with, we don't have all night.'

'I have only just been transferred to third year. I didn't learn how to deal with Boggarts yet.' She hated to admit her incapability, especially after seeing the smug look on Malfoy's face.

'I am sure Mr Malfoy will not mind explaining it to you. It is, after all, only a simple spell and I remember something about you being a fast learner. Now, I will leave you to your job, report back to me when you've successfully caught the Boggart. And remember, constant vigilance!'

With those words, he left the two students in the room, neither one moving even when the door slammed shut. Both remained staring at it, as if somehow expecting the professor to come back and admit it was a joke.

'So..' Daisy said after a long moment of silence. 'How are we supposed to find this thing?'

'Boggarts like dark places,' the Slytherin explained in a tone that made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Start with checking closets and chests.'

Not being in a mood for arguing, she simply nodded, moving to the nearest cabinet. 'So what am I supposed to do when I find it?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? Is that going to scare him away? I remember professor Moody saying it was an easy spell, but I didn't thi..-'

'You are supposed to do nothing,' he cleared up, already getting fed up with her existence 'because you will call me and I will deal with it.'

'Why don't you just teach me the incantation and I can do it myself?'

Whirling in his place, he threw her another agitated look. 'Do I look like a teacher to you? Besides, this is all your fault so I suggest you shut up and do as I say.'

Despite her earlier resolve to not get herself in more detention, she pulled up an eyebrow. 'How is this _my_ fault?'

'You broke the pillar.'

'Yes, well if you hadn't _attacked_ me, I wouldn't have broken the pillar, now would I?'

He snorted. 'You deserved it. Now get back to searching; I have no desire to spend my entire evening stuck in the same room with you.'

Sharing that sentiment, Daisy kept herself from throwing an insult at his head, instead focusing on the cabinet in front of her. Despite its innocent exterior, she felt fear bloom in her chest as she put her hand on the knob. Although she had not had any official lessons about Boggarts, she had read enough about to things to know what they were – and more importantly; what they did. Truth be told, she didn't really look forward to coming face to face with her biggest fear, especially not with Malfoy getting to watch the show. God only knew what he would do with that information.

'You know, staring at the door knob won't make the cabinet open itself.'

'Sod off, Malfoy.'

Closing her eyes, she pushed the knob down and.. breathed out when she noticed it was empty. Well, that wasn't that bad, she told herself as she moved on to an intricately decorated chest. Turning the key in the lock, she opened the lid with a little more conviction than the cabinet. Peering inside, she was met with only darkness and was about to declare this one safe as well and move on to the next potential hiding place when a hand shot up from within the darkness.

Startled and only a little bit frightened, Daisy stepped away from the chest, whipping out her wand as she did so. Wide-eyed and with her wand at the ready, she watched as an arm soon followed the hand. Before she had the chance to react, the figure fully emerged from within the depths of the darkness and stepped out of the chest.

Her wand went limp in her hand as the figure lifted its head.

~ Draco ~

At first, Draco didn't notice how quiet the room had gotten all of a sudden. All he was thinking about was finding the damn Boggart as fast as possible, so he could leave. However, after his third empty closet and still no luck, he chanced a look over his shoulder to see what the girl was up to. He would hex her if he found out she was letting him do all the work. He wasn't prepared, however, for the sight that met his eyes.

By the looks of it, she had been opening cabinets and chests, after all, just like he'd told her to. Currently she was standing a little bit away from an old, heavy looking chest, with her back turned to him and her wand raised. If this was all there was to see, Draco Malfoy would have gladly returned to his own searching. The problem however, was that ten feet away from her, immediately in front of the chest stood something which could have very well been her, were it not for the fact that she was, well, already there.

After that confusing, but mind-clearing thought, Draco quickly realised that this must, in fact, be the Boggart they were looking for and brought out his own wand. Moving closer, he noticed the fake copy of the girl was opening her mouth, as if speaking, but there was no sound to accompany it. One look at the face of the real girl told him all he needed to know, however: she _could_ hear the Boggart's words.

Quickly pushing the Gryffindor aside, Draco took her place in front of the Boggart. The copy of the girl took one glance at him and then, within a second, started morphing. The limbs grew taller, the hair lighter and the face pointier, and he was suddenly face to face with his father.

Back in third year, Draco had avoided facing the Boggart in class out of self-protection: he didn't need anyone to know what his biggest fear was, lest they used it against him. At the time, he himself hadn't even known what he feared most, though his suspicions now seemed to be turning out quite close to truth.

'Draco,' his father – no, the Boggart! – said, taking a step forward and looking down on him with a disgusted look. 'I thought I demanded your very best for this school year. But so far, the Potter boy still beats you in Quidditch and you're bested in all of your classes by the Mudblood. You are and have always been nothing more than a disappointment to us.'

'No, Father, I..-'

'You are no son of mine.'

The words hit him like a ton of bricks and Draco felt as if he'd just taken a very cold shower. His entire body, his entire _being, _felt ice cold and his lowered wand suddenly felt heavy and useless in his hand.

'Malfoy! Use the spell!'

He didn't listen to her, instead choosing to stare at the intimidating figure of Lucius Malfoy.

'It's the Boggart, damn it, it's not real. Do you hear me? It's. Not. Real.'

Somehow, those three words brought Draco back to reality and, remembering what the thing in front of him really was, he gnashed his teeth. Lifting his wand once more, he brought a caricature to mind of his father in one of his mother's silky dresses – an idea he would never admit was inspired by something Neville Longbottom had done – and waved his wand 'Riddikulus!'

Within a minute he had his father, now dressed in a fashionable purple sundress and matching sunglasses, back in professor Moody's chest. Only after it was locked – and he'd double checked that it – did he turn to the girl. 'All of this never happened. We will never speak of this again, to no one.'

The girl silently agreed.

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**AN: As I said at the beginning, in the books JK Rowling doesn't state what the Boggart of Draco Malfoy would be. I thought it over a lot and decided that of all things, he craved the approval and above all respect of his father the most. So it would only make sense that his biggest fear would be to be deemed a disappointment in his father's eyes. I hope I didn't ruffle any feathers. Let me know what you think would have been his Boggart. Also, what do you think Daisy's Boggart meant?**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Hi guys! Welcome back and I hope you will all enjoy this chapter! Big thank you to sanna11, who is not only a loyal reader and reviewer, but also a friend. You are amazing! Now, back to the story!**

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Chapter 16

The remainder of the first week of November passed by relatively uneventfully.

On Tuesday, Daisy – with some help from Amanda – finally got to posting her letter, inquiring not only after her parents' death, but also about her Aunt and Uncle's health and telling them a bit about her new life at Hogwarts. At the end, she'd even attached the question if they would give her permission to go to Hogsmead. Now all she could do was wait.

On Wednesday, Hermione had come up to her bed when she was about to leave for breakfast. Despite the conflicted looks that the frizzy brunette had been throwing her throughout breakfast, lunch and dinner the previous day, somehow the conversation had still surprised her.

'Daisy, hold on a minute.'

Reluctantly, she had put down her bag again, turning to face the other girl. Studying her for a moment, she came to the conclusion that Hermione did not just look uncomfortable, she looked downright nervous. Whatever was that for?

'I want to apologise,' she said uneasily, looking anywhere but at her. 'We should have believed you when you said that nothing happened. It's just, we know what Malfoy is like and don't want you to have to pay for his actions. But still, that's no..-'

'It's fine, Hermione. Really, I get it. Besides, I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did; it was uncalled for.'

After that, things between them had soon returned to normal. Or well, as normal as was possible when you were at a magical school and one of your friends has just been enrolled in a dangerous tournament. And although Hermione had reconciled with her, Ron had refused to talk to her and stuck to ignoring her along with Harry. Daisy had chosen to leave it be, though, suspecting that he would turn around when he and Harry would patch things up again.

With their quarrel out of the way, Daisy had spent the rest of her Wednesday in the company of Harry and Hermione, switching between playing games with Harry to keep his mind from the alienation he endured from the entire school and getting Hermione to review the first draft of her Potions essay – something which the witch refused to do. After having had dinner with them, she had reluctantly left for another extra class of Herbology.

Thursday had definitely been the lowest point of her week – if one did not count a certain horrible detention, of course. Entering the Potions classroom, it had been immediately clear that although Hermione had been able to get over their argument and reconcile with her; Ginny Weasley certainly wasn't. And if one could deduce anything from her behaviour, she seemed even more hateful than the week before.

Now, Daisy really wasn't one to assume the worst about people, but after the redhead had _accidentally_ dropped some of the steaming hot potion only an inch away from her hand, she felt forced to be somewhat on guard around the girl. The drop had hit the table and burned a hole right through it. No further attacks on her life were made, but the message Ginny had wanted to send her was clear. I hate you.

After that, things had fortunately started to look up. Friday had been spent studying in the library with Amanda and in the weekend, too, drama had not been able to find her.

So yes, the first week of November had passed by _relatively_ uneventfully. That didn't mean, however, that things had been peaceful.

For the entirety of the week, Daisy had been thinking of what had happened in detention. Although she had kept her word to not talk about it, she had not been able to keep it from her own mind. The words that her other self had spoken still resonated through her head, even though she rationally knew it had really only been a Boggart. Having it speak her very worst fears out loud had been unsettling and in that moment, she had been glad Malfoy was there.

Apart from thinking about her own Boggart, Daisy found herself thinking on more than one occasion what Malfoy's had meant. The tall, blonde man had shown so many similarities in appearance to Malfoy himself that even without his exclamation, she had guessed that he was his father. But that bit of information did little to clear things up. What did it mean? Was he scared of his own father? Was he, perhaps, scared of losing him? Her head reeled with the possibilities and implications of this discovery, even though she knew she should not be this interested in him. Whatever Malfoy's deepest and darkest fear was, was of no consequence to her and she didn't care. Or so she told herself.

It was Tuesday before she saw him again – and in the most unexpected manner. For her free afternoon, Daisy had confined herself to the library, working on the Potion's essay that Hermione was still steadfastly refusing to review ("If you would just go to the _library_ you wouldn't have to invent entire properties and side effects of the potion!"). The essay was due the next day, but she wanted to hand it in that evening at her extra Potions class. Perhaps then Snape would finally stop deducting points from her for no reason..

Reading the chapter about the Confusion Concoction for the first time, Daisy was surprised to find just how much of the essay could actually be found in the book. Perhaps she should have tried reading it sooner.

As she copied the list of ingredients onto her parchment, she tried not to think about the class in which she would be required to actually make the potion. Although the book gave the potion a difficulty level of simple to moderate, the instructions seemed to contradict that. She was just finishing dotting down the last ingredient – sneezewort – when a passer-by touched her arm, causing her to spill ink all over the parchment. 'What the Hell?!'

Looking up, she found Ginny Weasley glaring at her, her face all but apologetic. She looked as if she was about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it, and simply narrowed her eyes further at the older Gryffindor. The look she threw her clearly said 'What are you going to do about it?'.

She had half a mind to draw her wand at the redhead. Okay, perhaps it was more than half a mind. Really, who would notice if the little demon had sprouted real horns instead of just figurative ones.. However, Ginny didn't give her the time to think of the perfect hex, as she turned on her heel and left Daisy to fume alone. Or maybe not alone.

'Trouble in paradise?'

Groaning internally _and_ externally, Daisy took her head in her hands, trying to reign in her raging temper. 'What do you want, Malfoy?'

'I just _happened_ to overhear your conversation with She-Weasel. Didn't know you Gryffindors had it in you – fighting underhanded. '

'If you're only here to be a git about it, then feel free to leave any time.'

'Well, perhaps I don't feel like leaving just yet. Besides,' he said, sitting down on the chair opposite from her. 'We need to talk.'

Daisy pushed her still unfinished Potions essay aside, knowing that there would be no finishing it while he was there. 'And, pray tell, what do we need to talk about?'

'You lied.'

'What?'

'You lied,' he repeated.

'Lied? Malfoy, we hardly talk. I don't think I ca..-'

'That day in the Owlery, I demanded the entire and complete truth.'

'I told you all there is to kno..-'

'You didn't tell me you were fucking immortal!'

Grabbing Malfoy by his collar and pulling him closer, she levelled his eyes with hers. 'Firstly, keep your voice down, prat. I don't need anyone here knowing what I am. Secondly, I am _not_ immortal. Magic can't kill me, yes, but if you shoot me five times in the chest I will be just as dead as you will. _Thirdly_, where did you even learn this?'

He pulled himself from her grasp before he answered. 'This still counts as a breach of contract: you said you would tell me everything and you didn't.'

'So now what? You'll just go running to the newspapers?'

He snorted. 'Hardly. What I want is a favour.'

'What kind of favour?' She asked sceptically.

'Anything. And at any time.'

Testing her waters, she pulled up an eyebrow. 'And what if I refuse?'

'Then I will make sure that by tomorrow everyone knows of your true identity. You want to test it?'

'Fine,' Daisy said, gritting her teeth. 'But then I need you to promise that after I agree to this, nothing and no one will allow you to let go of your part of the deal.'

She was getting herself ready to make another pinkie swear when the Slytherin shook his head and pulled out his wand instead. 'If we're really going to make another vow, we'll do it properly.'

Following his example – albeit hesitantly – Daisy put the tip of her wand against his. As she waited for him to proceed, all she could think of was how much of a horrible decision this was. Knowing Malfoy, the favour was sure to be something equally terrible as illegal and getting into a vow like this, there was no way out.

'You will have to say your part of the deal after I've said mine. Then you have to speak the words "_hoc juro"_.' He waited for her to nod, then cleared his throat. 'I, Draco..' Daisy laughed at this 'Malfoy, hereby swear never to tell anyone, under no circumstances, to reveal the truth or hint at it.'

Stifling her laugh, Daisy breathed in deeply. 'I, Daisy McCalman, hereby swear to grant Draco,' she couldn't help another giggle 'Malfoy a favour, which can be used at any time and may be anything.'

Together, they spoke the Latin incantation and watched as blue flames formed a circle around their wrists, then disappeared.

As she slowly pulled back from Malfoy's wand, she unconsciously rubbed her wrist, where the heat of the flames could still be felt. 'This isn't dangerous, is it?'

'Only if you will not uphold your part of the deal.'

'Why? What happens then?'

'You die.'

'What?!'

'Merlin, don't you hang out with Pothead enough to have taken over his deathwish? If you breach the contract, the vow will let me know and you'll be marked as a traitor for everyone to see. That's all.'

She nodded, though she still did not understand what he meant with the last bit. Deciding she probably didn't want to know, she put the heavy subject aside and was reminded of her earlier amusement and burst out laughing once again.

Malfoy glared at her. 'Would you calm down? I don't need everyone seeing me with _you_.'

She tried to sneer at him, but only half managed because of the never ending giggles. 'I am sorry, _Draco_. I just.. I can't.. Was your mother dead drunk when she gave birth to you?'

He didn't grace her with an answer, instead choosing to throw the forgotten Potions book at her head. It hit its target and for the rest of the week, Daisy would be sporting a large bump on her forehead.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Welcome back to another chapter! I am sorry for the delay, but this week's been a rather hectic one. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Chapter 17

The next morning found Daisy at the Gryffindor breakfast table, her eyes half closed and her mind still asleep. Last evening's Potion's lesson had been trying, even without Snape's constant snide remarks and hateful mutterings.

They had been studying the effects of the Wiggenweld Potion and Snape had required her to write down the instructions for herself, so she could make it in their next session. Not only was it an extremely tricky brewing process – the potion was supposed to turn from red, to orange, to yellow, to green, to turquoise, to indigo, to pink, to red, to yellow, to purple, to red, to orange, to yellow, to orange, to turquoise, to pink, to green; _in that particular order_ – but there was also the added stress of Snape testing her very limited knowledge of the brewing all throughout the hour. Apparently, turning her essay in one day in advance had done little to quell his dislike for her. And, naturally she had failed to satisfy him and another ten points had been deducted from Gryffindor.

Honestly, if her House mates were ever to find out who had cost them all those points, they would probably straight-out lynch her. Heck, she would lynch herself, were it not for the fact that most of the time it really wasn't her fault.

The sound of screeching made Daisy lift up her head a tiny bit and then, the sight of a hundred or so owls had her pushing all thoughts of House Points to the background. Ever since the letter to her Aunt and Uncle had been sent, she had been eagerly awaiting their response. She could only hope that they would be more capable of handling the bird than she was.

Around her, several newspapers, post card, letters and presents were dropped on their recipients, but it wasn't until a familiar looking church owl dove down at the Gryffindor table that Daisy sat up in her seat. Catching the letter in mid-air, it took her only a second to know that this was the letter that she'd been waiting for – her Aunt's messy handwriting was, after all, unmistakable.

Making some excuse about having forgotten her wand in the dormitory, she quickly stood from her seat and almost ran from the Great Hall. Outside, Daisy stopped a moment to gather her thoughts and then set off towards the Grand Staircase. Although she didn't plan to actually go to the Gryffindor Tower, it would do well to get away from all the bustle before she would open the important letter.

Racing up one of the many staircases, she didn't notice the only other person on it until she quite literally crashed into them. In her surprise, she dropped the letter, her bag and herself to the ground. 'Watch where you're going!'

Almost instantly, the face of a young man levelled with hers and she realized he'd squatted in front of her. 'I am sorry, I didn't see you.'

At hearing the sound of his thick accent, Daisy studied him closer. His skin was coloured a light brown and his hair was a mop of dark, messy curls on his head. His face radiated all friendliness and the deep brown eyes that lay in the middle of it were warm and gentle. 'It.. It's fine. I am sorry for yelling at you.'

He held out his hand with a smile. 'You are forgiven, but only if you tell me your name.'

'It's Daisy.'

'It is nice to meet you, Miss Daisy, my name is Stojan. Please, allow me to escort you to the school's infirmary.'

'That won't be necessary, but thank you for the offer, Stojan. Even in my short time at Hogwarts, I have had and inflicted a lot more pain than a simple tumble could inflict.'

Stojan pulled a face at this, but then laughed good-heartedly. 'You British girls are very strange.'

'Actually that's just me,' she laughed as well, then turned on her heel. 'I've got to go now, though. See you later!'

The Bulgarian boy didn't have time to answer, for before he could even think of something to say in return, Daisy had already disappeared. Staring after her for a moment, he couldn't help the flicker of a smile that graced his lips. She really was strange.

In the meanwhile, Daisy had already put her encounter with Stojan to the back of her mind, instead thinking of the letter that she'd now stuffed in the pocket of her robes – or rather a certain part of it. Consumed by her thoughts, she was once again only made aware of the presence of another person when she bumped into them. This time, however, she was not the one to yell.

'Are you blind?!'

Staring up at the blonde Slytherin, she sneered. 'I'm not, but now I see you, I sincerely which I were.'

He didn't say anything for a moment, instead pulling up an eyebrow. 'What got your knickers in a twist?'

'Nothing! Urgh,' she was about to storm away when she stopped and threw him another look 'you're a right git, you know that?'

As she stomped away, she was struck by how her two run-ins could have possibly been so vastly different. How one of them was a real gentlemen about it, while the other made her want to commit murder. How one of them had actually left her with a little hope for mankind, while the other had her wishing that God would bring about another flood.

She sighed as she came to a stop in a deserted hallway. Malfoy's dickery should not surprise her anymore, not after all that he'd already done, but somehow he still managed to amaze her.

Sitting down in one of the alcoves, Daisy took out the letter that had brought about all of today's happenings. Pulling the paper – real paper, not parchment! – from the envelop, she was both excited and anxious for its contents. Without waiting another moment, she started reading.

_Dear Daisy,_ it started, _It is good to finally hear of you. You had your Uncle and I worrying that something was wrong. I am glad that you are having fun at school and that you've made friends already. Make sure to invite them over for Christmas! I've filled out the form that you attached for this trip to "Hogsmead" and hope that the owl will deliver it along with this letter. As for your other question, I am afraid that I can't answer it for you. All that I know of that evening, you already seem to know. Your Uncle got very quiet after he read your letter and for the past few days refused to tell me what's going on. If he really knows more about the details, I think you will have to ask him in person. Apart from this, your Uncle and I are both in good health, no worse for wear than when you last saw us in October. Oh how time flies! I can't wait to have you back for Christmas, for we miss you dearly and the house is eerily quiet without your constant running around. Lots of love, Aunt Ina._

Despite her happiness of hearing from her Aunt, Daisy couldn't help but be disappointed. For an entire week, she had been waiting for this letter, waiting to find out more about what had happened to her parents. For an entire week, she had expected that it would be the answer to all of her questions, only to come out empty handed. It was a dead end.

The only positive thing she could get out of this – apart from getting to go to Hogsmead – was that her Uncle did seem to know more than he'd let on for all those years. It wasn't much, but it was something to keep her going until Christmas. And it would have to be enough.

~~

The remainder of the school week had done little to lift her spirits. Between horrible Potion classes with Ginny Weasley, extra classes with Snape and piles of homework, Daisy barely had time to see Amanda. Apart from a few waves, some yelled greetings and some shared looks from across the Great Hall, it wasn't before Friday evening when they saw each other again.

The two girls had agreed to meet in the library after dinner, so they could catch up and simultaneously get some work done. This second intention was, however, completely forgotten as soon as Daisy stormed into the library, seething and beyond angry.

'Are you all right?' Amanda said, cautiously as if a single word could get the Gryffindor to explode. And she was right.

'All right? Of course I am not all right! I just can't believe that he.. That slimy, miserable, little shit.. Oh I ought to castrate him for..'

'What are you talking about, Daisy?'

As if only now seeing the other girl, Daisy huffed and sat down in a chair. 'Didn't you hear?'

Amanda replied in the negative.

'Malfoy,' it almost seemed to cause her physical pain to say his name 'cursed Hermione.'

'He did what?'

'He and Harry got into a duel and then their curses clashed, causing them to hit Hermione and what's-his-name. When Snape came upon them, he only put Harry and Ron in detention for violence, when the prat got away unscathed.'

'That's ho…-'

Amanda would never get to finish that statement, for in that moment a certain blonde haired, pale skinned Slytherin happened to pass by their table. In an instant, Daisy had jumped up from her chair. 'Please don't do anything..-'

The Gryffindor pushed the boy against one of the bookcases, her hand gripped tightly around his green tie.

'Rash.'


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: I am sorry this is kind of a short chapter, but I hope you'll guys like it nevertheless. Enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!**

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Chapter 18

'What the _fuck_ is your problem?'

'My problem? You want to know what _my_ bloody problem is?' She tightened her grip around his tie, pulling his face closer to her own. 'You are.'

Malfoy pulled up a blonde eyebrow, clearly not impressed with the anger in her voice. 'Still got your knickers in a twist about Wednesday?'

'Yes, I am pushing you against a bookcase for bumping into- No of course not, you dolt! I wouldn't risk throwing up my dinner in talking to you for something so trivial.'

'Then why am I pressed against this bookcase, with your face only inches from mine? You know, people might get wrong ideas..'

Daisy scrunched up her nose in disgust. 'They will quickly forget those ideas when I kick your arse. Beside, we both know why we are in this position: you hexed Hermione.'

'So this is what it's all about. You've come to the Mudblood's def..-'

'Don't call her that.'

'Well she doesn't need you to fight her battles for her; she has Pothead and Weasel for that.'

'If you weren't such a self-centred arsehole, she wouldn't need anyone to fight her battles.'

'I don't understand why you sound so surprised about this.' Daisy opened her mouth, ready to throw whatever insult popped first into her mind at his head, but he didn't allow her. 'The only reason I am not hexing _you_ is because we made a deal. _We_ made a deal: not the Mudblood, not Pothead, not any of your stupid Gryffindor friends. Now let go of me before I blast your hand off.'

Daisy closed her mouth, knowing he was right, but being damned before she would admit it. It was like she had realised on Wednesday: after all this time, she should be used to his dickery. But she wasn't. Somehow, just because he was being semi-tolerable to her, she unconsciously expected him to be more tolerable in general. Once again, a big mistake.

'I am not warning again, McCalman.'

Almost as if he had burned her, she recoiled and – after a last menacing look – stalked back to her study table. There, she sat herself back on her chair, allowing her head to rest in her arms. How could it have come to this? She being shut up and Malfoy being the one to leave her speechless. Draco _sodding_ Malfoy being the one who had seen through her.

'I made a mistake, Amanda.'

The Hufflepuff didn't respond, but the sound of a quill being put back in an inkwell was enough to make Daisy know she was listening.

'I made a mistake and I'm only now beginning to see just how big it was.' And that's how she told Amanda the story of the death of her parents, of the Conductor and lastly, about Malfoy.

Throughout the entire tale, Amanda said nothing and did nothing to give away her thoughts or feelings. But as Daisy went over the matter of Malfoy and her unwilling involvement with him, an emotion shone through in her eyes that made the pit in the Gryffindor's stomach all the deeper. She was hurt – and rightly so.

From the very beginning, Amanda had valued and trusted her as a true friend. Not once had she pushed Daisy to talk about things, trusting her to come to her in her own time. And yet, she hadn't and now she had to find out that instead, she had told her secret to the biggest, meanest bully in all of Hogwarts. Not only that, but even after the problems Daisy had had with him, she had kept quiet.

She had said or done nothing, but she didn't have to.

The next twelve days passed by quietly – at least for Daisy they did. For Harry and Hermione, those days were filled with whisperings, disdainful glances and overall ridicule from the other students, due to an article written by a certain Rita Skeeter. For Harry, apart from the added stress due to the article, his days were also filled with trying to prepare for the first task of the Tournament, even though he did not know what it was.

For Daisy however, like said before, those days were spent mostly in silence. Amanda did not speak to her anymore by herself, clearly still upset by what Daisy had told her in the library. Since both Harry and Hermione were occupied with the first task – and Ron was still steering clear of them – she didn't have anyone in the Gryffindor Tower to talk to, either. Her only real luck was that both Malfoy and Ginny Weasley also seemed to leave her alone for the time. The disgusted looks the latter sent her during Potions Class and meals made obvious, however, that she had not suddenly changed her thoughts about Daisy. She still hated her. More than ever, seemingly.

Apart from that, there was a strange and subtle change in the way the other Gryffindors treated her. She could not put her finger on the cause, nor figure out why it seemed to affect the female population more than the male, but attributed it to her loyalty to Harry.

The only things that kept her from completely going insane from solitude were the occasional conversations with Stojan, who seemed to have made a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Somehow he always seemed to make her laugh, no matter how bad a day she'd had. That and his natural easy-goingness made her value his friendship dearly.

The day of the first task started out as almost any other day of November had done so far. The sound of rain against the window woke Daisy up from her dreams and she grunted as she sat up in bed. Around her, the other girls started stirring as well and knowing that soon they would be crowding in front of the mirror, she jumped out of bed quickly. She gathered her clothes for the day and locked herself in the bathroom, determined to get a quick shower in before she'd start her day.

Later, in History of Magic, she was drifting off to sleep, quietly wondering why nothing interesting had happened so far. They could at least have given the students the morning off, under the ruse of getting in some studying before the excitement of the Tournament would drown out any school related thoughts. Alas, no such luck.

And so, it was only after sleeping her way through History of Magic and Herbology that she could finally leave for lunch. Lunch, however, wasn't much better, for Harry was anxious and Hermione, who looked as if she were the one competing in a life-threatening tournament, made it only worse with her well-meant advices. So in that way, she was almost happy when they were soon called to the fields.

As she followed the other Gryffindors outside, she ignored the betrayed look in Amanda's eyes as they crossed paths, instead choosing to wave at Stojan, who was also leaving in the direction of the Hogwarts fields. He made his way through the crowd quickly and together they made their way towards the stands, all guilt forgotten.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Hey guys and welcome back. I apologise for this being another quite short chapter, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I promise the next one will be longer. Let me know how you guys liked it!**

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Chapter 19

'Forty points to Mr. Harry Potter.'

Along with the rest of the Gryffindors, Daisy jumped up from bench, joining in on the thunderous applause. Harry had been the last to complete the task and earning himself forty points, he tied with Viktor Krum for the first place. What was more important, however – at least to Daisy – was that he'd survived, for at certain times during the task even this had not been a certitude.

'Congratulations,' a heavily accented voice sounded from next to her and she was brought back to reality. Through all the excitement, Daisy had completely forgotten the young, Bulgarian man that sat beside her and she now turned to him.

'I suppose I should congratulate you as well; Krum did really well.'

'Viktor did what was expected of him,' Stojan shrugged, then made to stand up. 'Let's return to the castle, before the evening sets in.'

As they stood from the wooden bench, she took the moment to look around. To the far right of her, with the other Gryffindors, she saw Hermione and Ron, who apparently had made up. Two rows beneath them sat Ginny Weasley, whose face was a mixture between relief and adoration. Clearly someone had a big crush.. Looking in the other direction, Daisy immediately noticed Malfoy among the Slytherins – if only because of his distinctive hair colour! – and scowled at him. He, when he noticed her staring, returned the favour.

In the meanwhile, the Durnstrang and Hogwarts had made it to the end of the row and from hereon, Stojan took the lead. With his height and size, he had little trouble in clearing a path for the two of them and soon, they were set out in the direction of the castle.

Lessons soon recommenced, homework piled up again and within days, the first task was already gone from everyone's mind. That was not to say nothing had changed, for somehow in that one evening after the First Task, Harry had been unanimously hailed a hero in the Gryffindor Tower. All demurs concerning the Boy-Who-Lived had been cast aside and he was embraced as their one and only champion.

For the ordinary student – which Daisy could certainly be counted among – this of course meant very little. They still had to go about their usual business and with Christmas well on its way, most of them had other things on their minds.

In two weeks, on December the 10th, professor McGonagall announced a Yule Ball, which would be open for students from fourth year and up. On the same day, the Heads of Houses also took the names of the students who'd stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. Daisy, with the question she needed to ask her Uncle still in mind, told her that she would go home.

'Don't you want to go to the Ball?' Parvati had asked her as the girls went to bed that night.

'I promised my Aunt I would come home,' she'd slipped under the covers 'Besides, I don't really care about dancing anyway.'

'But aren't you supposed to go wi..-'

A pillow had hit her square in the face and Lavender had given her a warning look 'Parvati.'

The other girl had nodded, then quietly lay down in her bed 'You're right, that's none of our business.'

Despite the strangeness of the situation, Daisy had let it go, if only because she really didn't want to talk about her love life – if ever she had one. Extinguishing the candle on her bedside table, she had quickly faked sleep.

A week later found the end of term and with that, a lot of extra excitement. Apart from the usual end-of-term happiness, there was also the added tension of people finding dates for the Ball. Even before lunch, Daisy had seen both Harry and Ron biting the dust.

Now, it was officially the end of term as the last class was over and Daisy was ready to go upstairs to pack her things. Faith, however, was not on her side.

'Going to cry yourself to sleep tonight, McCalman?'

Turning around, she sighed. 'And why would I do that, Malfoy – apart from having had the misfortune of seeing you today.'

'There's no need to deny that no one asked you to the Ball. Rumour has it that even Longbottom managed to find himself a date.'

'Perhaps I don't have a date because I'm not going to the Ball. Not that it's any of your business.'

The sound of her voice being called made her look over her shoulder, where she detected Stojan, who was making his way through the crowd in her way. Malfoy chose that moment to sneer at her, after which he left her alone on the staircase.

Seconds later, Sojan stopped by her side, following her line of sight to the Slytherin's retreating back. 'Did I interrupt something?'

Slowly shaking her head, she turned to the Bulgarian. 'Not at all. What was it you wanted?'

As if a switch was flipped, the boy suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. 'I was actually hoping I could ask you something..'

'Of course, Stojan.'

'I was hoping.. maybe you would like to go to the Yule Ball with me?'

For a moment, she was dumbstruck. Then, reality set back in and she knew she would have to break the news to him anyway. 'I can't.'

'You can't?'

'I can't,' she repeated, sighing as she saw his face fall.

'Is it because.. I know it's not my place to ask, but is it because of the blond boy?'

'Blond boy?'

He gestured in the direction over her shoulder. 'The one who was just talking with you. What is his name again? Maylo.. Malloy?'

'Malfoy..'

'Yes.'

'Why would I let him stop me from going to the Ball with you?'

'I just figured, well.. everyone is saying it, so I thought that perhaps..-'

'Saying what?'

'That you two are seeing each other.'

'What?!' If it were not for the serious look on his face, she might as well have laughed. Malfoy and her, seeing each other. That was as likely as professor Snape having a heart.

'It is not true then?"

'Of course not! I can't stand the git.'

A small smile now appeared on his face. 'Well, that is a relief.' Then he frowned again. 'But then why can't you go to the Ball with me?'

Now it was her time to smile, glad that the situation had somehow resolved itself. 'I'm going home.'


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Welcome back guys and I hope you will all enjoy your weekend. This was my - and probably for the most of you as well - first week of school and can I say: I can't wait for the next holidays! Anyways, I want to thank _sanna11, Akilarup _and _Sweet-Strawberry-09_ for their lovely reviews, you guys are amazing and are the reason that I write! On with the story!**

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Chapter 20

Daisy sat by the window, staring past the endless fields and forests and creaks and lochs that flew by, but not seeing anything. The sights were calming, but her mind was in turmoil. And somehow, this turmoil was caused by what lay ahead of her.

Throughout the year, she had often lain in her bed in the Gryffindor Tower, wishing she were at home instead. Now, as she was actually going back to Livingston, a strange fear was creeping up on her. It was the fear of having lost one's home; not because something changed about it, but because something had changed in you. It was the fear of finding that what you once called your entire life, your entire_ world_, had somehow reduced itself to being nothing more than something that you used to know.

It was strange to think how things could have changed so quickly; only half a year ago, she had been preparing for another year at her boring secondary school, thinking herself to be like every other average teenager. Now, she knew not only that magic exists and that there was such a thing as Hogwarts, but also that she herself, in fact, belonged to that magical world of witchcraft and wizardry. If someone would have told her all of that around this time last year, she was sure she would have laughed at them.

Deciding it would not do her no good to think of what lay ahead, she thought back on what lay behind. Only a few hours ago, she had been in the Great Hall, eating her last Hogwarts breakfast for the year. At the time, she had not known what events would transpire before she got to board the Hogwarts Express.

She had been halfway through her egg when a church owl had not so gracefully landed on the table. As she tried to untie the letter attached to its paw, the animal feasted on what was left of her meal. By the time she had successfully secured the note, her plate was empty and the owl left without a second glance.

_Dear Miss McCalman,_ it started, in a handwriting Daisy did not recognize. She wondered who it was from. _If it is not all too inconvenient for you, I wish to speak to you before you travel home later this morning. Kindly see me in my office after breakfast. No answer by return of this owl will be needed._ _Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore. P.S. I have developed a particular taste for Toffee Eclairs this week._

Well that answered her earlier question. The only thing that wasn't clear to her now – apart from why the professor seemed so keen on ridiculous passwords – was why he would want to see her. She had not done anything noteworthy lately, in either sense of the word, and therefore could think of no other reason for the professor to want to speak to her. Then again, she thought as she stood from the bench, professor Dumbledore had a habit of being cryptic.

Daisy had trekked to the third floor in relative peace, enwrapped in her own thoughts. She had only been to the Headmaster's Office twice, both being at the beginning of the year and in the company of someone more familiar with the layout of the castle. She could only hope she would be able to find it on her own..

It was this moment that fate had chosen for her to run into somebody. Their shoulders bumped and, though this time her balance wasn't compromised, she'd readied herself to give the other person a piece of her mind anyway. That, however, wouldn't be bad enough a punishment, she soon found out, when she'd looked in the livid face of Ginny Weasley.

'So you're going home for Christmas?' It wasn't a question and the way the redhead had spit the words out, it was as if Daisy had committed a crime by not staying at the castle.

'I don't see how this matters to you..'

Ginny had ignored her reply. 'Aren't you supposed to stay with your sweetheart, snake lover?'

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at this. 'Even someone as daft as you must realise how preposterous that sounds, right?'

'Don't try to deny it. I've seen you two!' This had caught Daisy's attention. 'In the library, all chummy against one of the bookcases.'

'It was you! Of course it was you! Who else would take the time out of their own lives to make up twisted, _untrue_ gossip to make me look bad, but you,' she had mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Then, realising she would have to hurry if she was still to see the headmaster before her train would depart, she'd said: 'Look, Ginny, I don't know what your problem is with me, nor will I pretend that I care to know. All I know is that I'm going home and that when I come back, you better have this situation fixed or next time in Potions Class it will be _me_ who's spilling poison. And I will _not_ miss.'

She had left the girl after that, crossing the last few hallways until she'd come upon the stone Gargoyle. After she had spoken the password, she had ascended the winded staircase, all thoughts of Ginny Weasley pushed to the back of her mind.

Looking back on it now, Daisy couldn't say what had been the strangest of the two confrontations. Of course, Dumbledore always ranked high on her list of weirdest individuals because of his strange and cryptic advices and all-knowingness, but that day's conversation had actually been quite normal – at least for his standards. Apart from wanting to wish her a Merry Christmas, he had reminded her of the switch that was most certain to occur once she returned to Livingston. There, in an all-Muggle environment, she was sure to experience dizziness and faintness to some extent.

As he'd seen her to the door, speaking to her about what he hoped to get for Christmas – a new pair of thick, woollen socks – he had suddenly grown serious once again. 'Sometimes,' he'd said, that familiar twinkle clear in his eyes 'We need to look at ourselves to find the answers we desire most.'

Now, as the train was close to its destination, she still did not understand the meaning behind his vague words. Most likely, as always seemed to be the case, she would find out after an accident would bring her to the answer to her questions.

She had no doubt that he was talking of the matter of her alleged mythical creature status, just like she had no doubt that he'd known the reason for her return to the Muggle world all along. He wasn't the greatest wizard of all time for nothing, after all.

The passing by of the scenery – which had slowly changed from meadows and trees to houses and churches – now started to slow down and she knew they must be nearing London. That, however, would only be the first stop on her long journey. From thereon, she would have to go to Diagon Alley, and, after that, take a magical bus to Livingston. She could only pray for that to end well.

As the Hogwarts Express finally came to a stop at the King's Cross Station, Daisy grabbed hold of her trunk and bag and followed the other students out of the train. Stepping on the platform, she was surprised to see so many people. Given that only a dozen of students from each year – and from the years four and up even fewer – had decided to go home for the holidays, it was surprising to see just how many grownups there were on the platform. And most of them were screaming, waving or crying – or some kind of combination of the three. It was, to say the least, unsettling.

Making her way through the crowd of emotional reunions, Daisy was glad when she finally made it out of the packed platform and into the relatively silent halls of the normal train station. It was only now, however, that she realized she was completely lost. In all her years, she had never actually been to London – or any other part of England for that matter. Her Aunt and Uncle didn't enjoy the bustle of big cities and so even trips to Edinburgh had only been made once every two or three months out of necessity.

Daisy took a deep breath, calming her erratic nerves, and stepped out on the street. Immediately, she was assaulted by all sights and smells and she suddenly felt very small, even as she was standing there with her ridiculously oversized trunk. The thought that she didn't at all know how to find Diagon Alley suddenly occurred to her and she realised she should have asked one of the witches and wizards at platform 9¾.

Instead of going back inside and do the sensible thing, she decided to follow the street signs to the city centre, reasoning that if she did, she would have to happen upon the Inn sometime. Luckily for her, sometime turned out to be a lot sooner than she could have hoped for.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome back for another magical year at Hogwarts - whoops, nope that's from A Very Potter Musical. But I do wish you welcome and hope you'll enjoy this week's chapter. Special thanks to _KyuubiNoPuma_ for the review, I love you! (:**

* * *

Chapter 21

In hindsight, it had been almost ridiculously easy to find the Leaky Cauldron. No, scratch that: it _had_ been ridiculously easy to find the Leaky Cauldron.

After walking down the first road she had seen – the Charing Cross Road – in the direction of the city centre, she had literally happened upon the small pub in less than five minutes. That was not to say, however, that she had actually _entered_ the Leaky Cauldron in five minutes.

Standing in front of the building, it had quickly become clear to Daisy that Muggles couldn't see the place. As would probably be the case on any other day in London, the city was packed with people, yet none of them seemed to give the shady pub even a second glance – or for that matter; even a first. Daisy, although she could see the place, whole-heartedly agreed with them.

The outside of the store was dark and shabby looking and for the first few minutes that she stood there, Daisy actually doubted whether she was at the right address. After she had established that this was, in fact, the renowned Leaky Cauldron, she spent the next minutes doubting whether she wanted to go in.

It wasn't before a mother and daughter, clearly having also come from Charing Cross, passed her and went inside, that she hesitantly followed.

The inside of the pub wasn't much better than the exterior. Yet again, dark and shabby looking. The tables looked like they hadn't been cleaned in ages and some of the pub's visitors looked very much the same. When one of the inhabitants stroked a snake that was casually hung over his shoulders, Daisy unconsciously took a step closer to the mother and daughter.

Opening a door, the older woman stepped out in a small courtyard at the back of the building, where apart from a few boxes and empty crates, wasn't much to see. Before Daisy could turn back to the tavern, however, the woman whipped out her wand and, seemingly randomly, tapped some of the bricks in the wall. Now, the two females both looked expectantly at the wall, which Daisy decided to mimic. But then it happened.

'Holy f..-' Daisy exclaimed as suddenly the wall started morphing and she stepped back in surprise.

The mother and daughter payed her no attention, instead casually linking arms as they passed under what was now a stone arch, leaving Daisy standing alone in the courtyard.

It took her all of two minutes to process what was going on. Then, as she had come to the conclusion that, yes, this woman had just opened a gate with her wand and, yes, behind the gate was Diagon Alley, she stepped out on the street.

Immediately, she was attacked by new smells, sights and sounds and her head spun with all fascinating things around her. Before her curiosity would run away with her, she stopped in front of one of the first shops on the road: Flourish and Blotts – a bookshop. If she was to start shopping for her Christmas presents somewhere, this seemed to be a good place.

As she had been sitting in the train, she had made a list of all the people that she'd wanted to buy presents for – which, in all honesty, weren't many – and had tried to come up with things to give them. Hermione had certainly been the easiest and so, it didn't take Daisy long to locate the section with books about magical creatures. Skimming the shelves for anything useful, she finally stopped as she found something promising. She grabbed the brown, leather bound book from the shelve and turned it around to look at the front. _A History of House Elves_.

'Perfect.' And it was. Since the brunette was completely taken with her new cause, S.P.I.T., it was a most suitable present. Add to that Hermione's undying thirst for knowledge and love for books and the book was sure to be received well.

On her way to the cash register Daisy came upon a pile of books titled_ 'Monsters and Mysteries of Great Britain_' and decided on it as a good Christmas gift for her Bulgarian friend. Who knew, she might put a picture of herself somewhere between the pages.

Back out on the street, her two books securely wrapped and tucked away, she continued on the cobble road. Her next stop was at the Quality Quidditch Supplies, which – as the name already implies – sold Quidditch Supplies. Stepping inside of the small shop, Daisy felt strangely out of place. Like how you feel when you go to a soccer store when you yourself don't play soccer. Add to that the fact that you barely know what soccer is and you get the level of awkwardness that Daisy was experiencing at that particular moment.

'Can I help you?'

Looking up, she noticed that the shopkeeper had come out from behind the counter and now stood in front of her. He was all that you expected to find in a sports store: big, burly and only a little too masculine, looking at her as if he knew just as well as she did that she didn't belong there.

'Actually,' she began, the word sounding closer to a squeal than an actual human voice. She cleared her throat and straightened her back, trying again. 'Actually, I was looking for some things for ehm a broom.'

'Ah,' he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 'Buying Christmas presents for a friend, eh?'

What possessed her to say the next, Daisy wasn't sure. Perhaps it was the way his eyes twinkled as if realising he'd been right: she didn't belong there. Perhaps it was the way he sounded only a little bit too triumphant about that fact. 'Actually, it's for me. For _my_ broom.'

The surprised look was almost worth the lie. That was until he had recovered and nodded. 'I see. What kind of broom is it? Of course, I can't really help you if I don't know what kind of material we're dealing with.'

It was a lie and she knew it. He was testing her, knowing just as well as she did that she didn't own a broom. He had, however, underestimated her if he thought she would fall so easily. 'A Firebolt. Must say it's quite an improvement to my old Nimbus 2000, but the handle's been getting a little rough from all the matches.' The lie came smoothly and easily and for once, Daisy was glad that Harry and Ron seemed unable to talk about anything else than Quidditch. Looking at the shopkeeper through her eyelashes, she noticed he was now looking at her with something close to respect.

'A Firebolt, you say.' He nodded approvingly, then moved to another part of the shop. 'I think I have just what you need for that handle of yours. Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish,' he held up the small container. 'A bit pricy, but it will last you a long time.'

She accepted the container in silence, not wishing to dig her hole any deeper than it already was.

'Was there anything else you needed?'

Thinking back on her Christmas list, she nodded. 'I'm looking for some Chudley Cannons merchandise as well.'

His newfound respect vanished as easily as snow on a summer day and he let out thunderous laugh. 'Chudley Cannons? They couldn't even win a match if their opponents would all be replaced by orange snails!'

'It's for a friend,' she said, defensively.

'Well, tell your friend that he'd better find himself another team to support.' He walked away and, not knowing what else to do, Daisy followed him. 'Anyways, I don't know why we still keep this stuff, though I must say the Cannons have one of the most dedicated fan clubs of all English and Irish teams. And that says something, especially given how ridiculously bad they are.'

Deciding to simply smile and agree, Daisy picked out a poster of all of the players flying mid-game and walked to the counter. Hopefully now, it would be over.

'You said you played, right?'

It took her a moment to catch on. 'Yes, I do. Only school games, though.'

'Everyone's got to start somewhere, right? Look at that Bulgarian boy, Viktor Krum. He's still _in_ school and he's already world-famous.'

Daisy chuckled. 'I'm no Viktor Krum, though.' And that was the truth – for perhaps the first time in their entire conversation.

Handing her her things, he leaned forward, looking thoughtful. 'Tell you what. Me and some friends usually play a friendly match of Quidditch on our free evenings – if we have enough people, that is. Why don't you join us tonight, show us what you got.'

'That's really friendly of you, but I can't.' Once again, the truth. She couldn't play Quidditch. Heck, she couldn't even ride a broomstick. 'I am going out of town. I am sorry.'

'That's okay. Just look me up whenever you have the time. I would really like to see that Firebolt in action.'

'I will.' And that.. well, that wasn't the truth.

* * *

**AN: For everyone who noticed: Yes, I know Hermione's cause is called S.P.E.W., not S.P.I.T.. This, however, is from Daisy's point of view and she - probably like most others - messes up the name. Although she doesn't understand house elf slavery as a Muggleborn and thinks it's ridiculous as well, she's not such a fanatic as Hermione. **


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Hi guys, I hope you all had a good week! Enjoy this week's chapter and don't forget to review!**

* * *

Chapter 22

At last, when after two more hours of Christmas shopping she had finally decided on a proper present for Amanda, Daisy stepped back into the Leaky Cauldron. Her feet were tired from all the walking, her arms ached from the many bags _and _her trunk she'd been hoisting all over Diagon Alley and she was chilled to the bone. Despite her physical discomfort, she was in a great mood however. And it all had to do with her last bought present.

She had been on her way back to the shady pub when she'd passed the shop and, more for shits and giggles than for anything else, decided to venture inside. It had been pleasantly warm in _Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop_ and Daisy had loosened her scarf as she looked around. Her vision had been attacked by all sorts of violently bright things, ranging from jars full of suspicious looking pills to a green-and-orange business robe that was said to sing birthday songs to the wearer. And that was when she saw it.

Next to the suit, on a shelve with other brightly coloured pieces of garment, it looked almost boring in compare to the other items. Made of wool and dyed in a dull black, Daisy's first thought had been that the scarf must have been put there by accident. And yet..

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she had grabbed the item of the shelve and, wearily, put it around her neck. Before she knew it a loud voice erupted from the thing and she'd almost lost her balance in shock.

'I wish you a merry Christmas, I wish you a merry Christmas, I wish you a merry Christmas AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all..-'

Daisy had pulled in shock at the scarf, wishing to silence it before any more people would turn to see what the noise had come from. It, to her surprise – and shock – would not bulge. Putting down her bags, she put both hands on the scarf now, trying in vain to remove the abhorrent garment from her person.

When she had almost given up hope and decided that she would just buy the damn thing, she noticed the little card that was sown to one end of the scarf. Bringing it closer to her face, she'd read: 'Musical Scarf; Will Sing Christmas Songs For the Wearer and Whoever Is Unfortunate Enough to Hear. Attention: Say "Please" To Remove Scarf.'

'Please!' Daisy had all but called out, throwing the scarf away from her in desperation. It had landed in a pathetic heap of black wool on the ground, looking perfectly normal and innocent.

She'd sighed, knowing she couldn't just leave it on the ground, and stepped forward to seize it up. Holding it with two fingers – and as far away from her person as was physically possible – she'd been turning back to the shelve from which it came when an idea sparked and a smile had graced her lips.

Now, as she sat in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the clock to strike half past four, she still thought it was a brilliant idea.

After she had brought the scarf up to the cash register – and had ascertained the shop keeper that she really didn't need dung bombs, even if they were going for half the normal price now – she had kindly asked him to remove the card from the scarf and – after ascertaining him that she knew that there was no way for the receiver to know how to remove the scarf then – had it packed in nicely looking gift wrapping. For a moment she had doubted whether or not to add a note, but she'd decided against it, if only because she knew chances of her gift reaching its target would be slimmer.

Imagining what would happen was the best Christmas gift she could wish for. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy was sure to love her gift. And who knew, if he had some decent manners hidden somewhere in that arrogant, stupid head of his, he might have the thing off by the time summer came along.

It was almost ironic that she had found a gift for someone she didn't even plan to buy something so easily, when she'd spent over an hour looking for something she could give Amanda. But at least she'd gotten her something. Now all she could do was hope that she would like the silver charm bracelet.

Glancing at the old fashioned, no doubt magically empowered clock at the far-end wall, Daisy noticed it was twenty-seven minutes past four. She quickly finished the last of her butterbeer and then stood from her chair, making her way out of the shady pub for the last time.

Outside, it seemed the buzz of London had calmed, if only a little. Fewer people walked the street and those who did seemed to be in a hurry, probably trying to get home before the setting winter sun would completely disappear from the sky. Daisy sat down on the curb, taking out her bus ticket as she waited. The Knight Bus. She had never heard of it before, but Hermione had said it was a reliable means of transport for under aged witches and wizards. She had taken Hermione's word for it, only partly because getting to Livingston by means of Muggle transport was a whole lot more expensive, not to say taking a whole lot more time.

Somewhere in the distance a church clock chimed half past four, marking the time of her supposed departure. But looking around, there was no 'Knight' bus. There was nothing.

It was then that the deafening sound of screeching tires and screaming brakes reached her ears and a purple bus shot into King's Cross Road. It manoeuvred smoothly around – and dangerously close to – the many normal cars and street-crossing people, only narrowly missing some of them. Then, it came to a sudden stop in front of her and the door opened.

'Miss Daisy McCalman, here to travel with us from the Leaky Cauldron, London, to 108 Columbia Avenue, Livingston – that's in Scotland,' he read from a card. He looked to be about nineteen, was covered in pimples and his ears protruded from underneath his hat. Judging by his suit, matching the colour of the bus itself, Daisy guessed he was the conductor. 'Well?' He said, staring at her as if she'd gone off the rockers.

'Yes,' she quickly said, thrusting her bus ticket into his hand.

After quickly scanning the piece of paper, he put it in his pocket and smiled widely at her. 'Good afternoon Miss Daisy McCalman and welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Stanley Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for today.' His English was heavily accented and, in contrary to her, he didn't seem to have learned the art of speaking a more neutral form of the language. This, coupled with the speed with which he spoke, caused her to only understand half of what he said. Without asking for her permission, he started loading her bags into the bus and Daisy uncomfortably handed him her heavily loaded trunk.

When he'd got her settled on a bench next to a seemingly sleeping witch, he took a seat on her other side. 'Is this your first time traveling with the Knight Bus, Miss Daisy McCalman.'

'Just Daisy is fine,' she said, feeling weird with his over-use of both the word 'Miss' as her last name. 'And yes, it is.'

'Then we'll make sure it will be an experience you'll never forget. Full throttle, Ernie!'

Before she could ask who Ernie was, or even grab something to hold on to, the Knight Bus blasted onto the road, throwing her and the other passengers from their seats. This was bound to be a long ride..

* * *

Two hours – and undoubtedly many bruises – later, they arrived in front of her Aunt and Uncle's house in Livingston. _Her_ house. Stanley helped her unload her luggage and then, before she could even say thank you, the bus sped out of the street, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there. Apart from the many bruises, of course. Now she understood the strange looks Harry had been giving her when Hermione had proposed the Knight Bus as a means of getting her home.

Walking up the stone path to the house, an unreasonable nervousness bloomed inside of her and Daisy had to take a moment to collect herself before she rang the bell.

Within seconds, sounds of footsteps could be heard and the door was thrown open. Two warm, familiar arms encircled her and in that moment, it seemed as if time had not passed at all. In that moment, it was like nothing had changed.

'I've missed you,' her aunt said when they stepped back, touching her hair. 'Your hair is in desperate need of a cut, I see.'

She chuckled, pulling the longer lock behind her ear. 'I missed you, too, Aunt Ina.'

'Come inside quickly, child, before you catch a cold.' Following her aunt into the familiar narrow hallway, a wave of dizziness overcame her, but she pushed it aside. There was no use in worrying her family, not when it was simply the sign to let them know she was one of them again. She was normal again. But for some reason, normal didn't seem so normal anymore.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: First of all, I want to appologise for putting this chapter up so late. It was my intent to finish it last night, but then I had to work late so I didn't have time to finish it anymore. I hope you can forgive me. Now, on with the story!**

* * *

Chapter 23

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, surprisingly. There was much to talk about, much to tell each other after so long a separation, and yet…

Every attempt to start conversation had failed and staring at her plate of homemade chicken tikka masala – which used to be her favourite food – Daisy found that she could not enjoy it at all. It seemed that, for all there was to talk about, perhaps there was _too_ much to talk about. Every time she brought up something about Hogwarts, Ina McCalman would nod and smile, but it was clear that she did not share her niece's enthusiasm about the wizarding world. Her Uncle, without a doubt, was even worse.

Remembering him as a kind, spirited father figure who was always trying to make her laugh, she could almost not believe that the man sitting across from her was the same man. He did not nod or smile whenever she spoke. In fact, he did nothing at all to acknowledge her presence. He stared at his food, occasionally bringing one spoon to his mouth, only to resume staring once he had swallowed it.

The once tight knit and loving family had grown apart. For as much as there was to tell, they suddenly found themselves living in two very different worlds. It sickened her.

'Excuse me,' Daisy said quietly, moving from the table and dropping her plate in the sink. Then, without another word to either her Aunt or Uncle, she stormed upstairs.

Sitting down on her bed, she found her bedroom very much the same as how she left it. The left wall was still covered with band posters, the right still occupied by the large window with numerous trinkets scattered on the windowsill. Next to the large wardrobe stood her radio, some of the music tapes still scattered on the side table on which it stood. It was like time had not passed at all in the small town of Livingston and yet it suddenly didn't feel like home anymore. Suddenly, home was sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor tower, talking with Parvati, Lavender and Hermione from the comfort of their four-poster beds, watching in disgust how Ron would chow away on food. Suddenly – and a part of her realised it was not so sudden at all – Hogwarts had become her home.

A soft knock on her door caused Daisy to look up and she watched as it opened.

'May I come in?' After her niece had nodded, Aunt Ina stepped into the room and after a soft sigh, sat down next to the younger girl. 'I made burnt cream for desert. If you still want some, it's in the fridge.'

'I might get some later, thanks.'

A moment of silence filled the room as both women sat, staring at the room in which they'd shared such fond memories. Ina McCalman had always thought of her niece as her own daughter, raising her as one of her own, and it pained her to see the young girl upset.

For a minute longer she remained silent, then she sighed again. 'We are sorry, lass.' When her niece said nothing, she continued. 'It's difficult for us, you know. One minute you are just Daisy and the next you're swept off to some magical school and we don't get to see you for half a year. We are trying, but it's, well, it's..-'

'Different.. I know.' Another silence fell upon them and Daisy fiddled with her hands, wondering if she could tell her Aunt what troubled her. For as long as she could remember, she had shared everything with her Aunt, ranging from crushes to nightmares to well.. everything really. Now it felt as if they were distant relations. 'It just doesn't feel like I belong here anymore.' Staring in her hands, she dared not to look up, afraid of seeing an expression of hurt in her Aunt's face. 'I had hoped that everything would be the same and now it's not and..' She didn't finish her sentence, her eyes already burning with the tears that longed to be spilled.

Her Aunt put an arm around her and pulled the younger girl against her, stroking her head. 'It's alright, dear. It's alright.'

As if on que, her tears started flowing and Daisy buried her head further into her Aunt's side. Sobs wracked her body and she gripped the material of the older woman's jumper a little tighter. It was so long since she had last cried, had shown weakness, and it felt good to for once not have to be on guard.

And that's how they sat there for forty minutes; on the bed, huddled together with Daisy in Ina McCalman's arms, sobbing, while the older woman stroked her hair as she whispered words of comfort. When at last the sobs lessened and the shaking stopped, she smiled as she kissed the crown of her niece's head.

Daisy slowly lifted her head and looked out of the window. For a moment, she said nothing, then she sighed. 'I just don't want you to hate me.'

Her Aunt chuckled softly, then stroked her head one more time. 'Silly lass, we could never hate you. Difficult it might be, aye, but we'll be better. You will always be my wee bairn, that I promise you.' She wiped the last traces of tears from Daisy's face, then smiled. 'Let's go downstairs and have some of that burnt cream, before your Uncle eats it all.'

* * *

Despite her Aunt's efforts, Daisy's stay in Livingston had been filled with awkward and tense moments and, mainly between her Uncle and her, uncomfortable silences. It was therefore more a blessing than a curse that her Uncle, who worked at the local bank, had not been able to get days off from his work during her stay.

That left the two women to go to the Christmas market, buy a tree, decorations and food for their Christmas family dinner by themselves. The Livingston Christmas market, though definitely not to be compared to the one in London or even Edinburgh, had a familiar, homely feel to it and, because of that, was the perfect place for both aunt as niece to put their minds off of things.

'What do you think about coriander soup as a starters?' Her Aunt mused as they passed by one of the many stalls. They had been shopping in silence for a while, both looking for a perfect tree.

'No Cock a Leekie this year?'

Her Aunt chuckled at the unbelieving tone in her voice. 'I know you don't like leek, lass. And since we only get to see you for so short, I decided I might as well humour you a little.'

The comment seemed to silence both of them for a moment, both realising how little they had seen of each other for the past half a year. And how little they would see of each other for the next half. 'So what is it like?'

'What is?'

'The school.. Hogwarts.'

A second passed in silence, for Daisy did not know what to say. This was the first time that her Aunt had actually asked to hear about Hogwarts – or anything magical for that matter. Thinking over an answer, she smiled as the only way to accurately describe it popped into her head. 'It's magical. The castle is huge and old, but still feels really homely. And there are these staircases that bring you to the next floor, but they also move, so sometimes one will bring you to the second and the next to the fourth floor. And all over the castle the walls are lined with moving portraits and they sometimes talk to you when you pass. Oh and the Great Hall, if only you could see it! There's some sort of enchantment on the roof which makes it appear like the sky.'

Ina looked down fondly on her niece, glad to hear that she'd finally found somewhere to belong. 'That _does_ sound magical, lass.'

* * *

The first rays of sunshine started to filter through her half-closed curtains and turning in her bed, Daisy pulled up the covers a little higher. 'Would someone close the bloody curtains,' she mumbled, still half asleep. When her ears were met with silence, she grumbled, knowing exactly who would always open the curtains as soon as they woke up. 'Parvati, close the damn curtains or I swear I will hex your hair green!'

A soft chuckle was emitted from somewhere in the room. 'I don't know who this Parvati is, dear, but you need to wake up.'

Even in her sleepy state, Daisy recognised the voice as belonging to her Aunt and with that realisation, she suddenly remembered exactly where she was. 'I don't want to, it's too early!'

'Too early?' Her Aunt asked, her tone still amused. 'It's already half past nine, lass.'

'I'm tired!'

'Well then I suppose your presents will just have to wait..'

'Presents?!' And then it clicked: it was Christmas! Throwing off the covers, she rushed to the bathroom, pushing a brush through her hair while she struggled to put on slippers and a bathrobe at the same time. When she was semi-dressed, she skipped down the stairs.

'I was woken up this morning by a couple of owls tapping against the window,' her Aunt said with a smile, then gestured towards the larger-than-normal pile of presents. 'You don't happen to know anything of it, do you?'

Daisy smiled as she sat down on the couch, taking the empty seat between her Aunt and Uncle. 'Merry Christmas.'

'You too, dear.' 

* * *

**AN: For everyone wondering: Cock a Leekie (soup) is a traditional Scottish soup containing of - surprise surprise - leeks and chicken. **


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome to the 24th chapter of The Conductor. I hope you will enjoy it and if so, please let me know. Remember: Reviews are a writer's best friend! (:**

* * *

Chapter 24

The rain was obscuring most of the view, hiding the snow-covered hills, the frozen streams and the white trees behind a curtain of dark, bleary rain. It seemed almost symbolic, how the depressing rain would wash away all memories of the holidays, making room for the next semester of school.

Daisy pushed away thoughts of school a little longer, not wishing to be remembered of all the essays she would have to write in the next half a year. Instead, she looked down at her lap, where her Christmas presents – or rather the remainder of it – were stalled out.

Hermione had send her Eagle feather quills, with a note attached that she hoped they would be used well and that then, Daisy would finally stop borrowing her quills – and losing them God knows where. At reading the card, she had remembered finding three of the things in, respectively, a pair of socks, her toilet bag and, somehow, a dirty pyjama pants when she had been unpacking her trunk.

Harry had send her 'Exploding Snap', which very obviously turned out to be a wizard game. Not understanding how it worked – and not wanting to test it out with her Aunt, in case of dangerous outcomes – she'd decided to ask Harry about it when she'd get back at Hogwarts.

Her gift from Ron had been her favourite, if only because it was candy and she had already devoured half of the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. So far, she had been fairly lucky, having only once had the misfortune of tasting a red pepper flavoured one.

Her last two, magical presents had been from Stojan and Amanda. The first had attached a small card with a moving image of falling snow on the front and holiday wishes in both Bulgarian and English on the inside. He had given her a set of long burning, scented candles and had attached a cards to every one of them, telling her what each scent meant to him. It was a little intimate and Daisy could only hope it was a Bulgarian thing.. Amanda had given her a simple, silver necklace with a lion pendant, no note or card attached.

Daisy had been surprised to receive gifts from her school friends, to be honest. In secondary school, she had never received presents from anyone at school. At Hogwarts, even though she hung out with them from time to time, she had expected it to pretty much be the same. Nevertheless, she was grateful for their thoughtfulness.

The last two items lying on her lap were both distinctly Muggle and were gifts from her Aunt and Uncle. One of them was actually not a gift at all, having been hers from the day she was born. The album was filled with pictures ranging from being taken ten minutes after her birth to the one when she was just blowing out the candles on a cake for her fourteenth birthday. It had been started by her parents and was then continued by her Aunt and Uncle. She was supposed to receive it for her eighteenth birthday, but since she was now so little at home, they had decided to give it to her now. With the camera that was her other gift, she could fill the last empty pages of the photo album herself. She had not found time to give the album the time or attention it deserved and so she'd decided to look at it when she did. The thought of the last two presents brought back memories of the evening before she'd left.

For the entire duration of her stay, her Uncle and Daisy had barely spent five minutes in each other's company, not counting the many, silent dinners they had shared. For Daisy, the hurt had quickly turned to anger, then to bitterness and soon she'd refused to even feel the pain anymore. Aunt Ina, however, would have none of it and so on the last day of her visit, forced the two into her uncle's office.

Ten minutes had passed in complete silence. The ticking of the old clock was the only sound either of them had heard and they'd both stubbornly looked out of the window. Neither wanted to give in first, neither wanted to let go of their pride.

At last, when another five minutes had passed in silence, Daisy had stood from her chair. 'I am going to finish packing.'

She'd made it halfway to the door before the voice of her uncle filled the room, the deep quality of it tainted by a tiredness that did not seem to fit with the man she knew. Then again, ever since she'd come home for Christmas, nothing seemed to fit anymore with the man she knew. 'Wait.'

Daisy had turned on her spot, her arms crossed in front of her and an eyebrow raised, impatience clearly visible.

Another silence filled the room, seeming to stretch on forever, and she had been about to turn back around when he continued. 'It still amazes me every time to see how similar we are.' He'd stared out of the window, not being able to look at her when he spoke of his feelings. 'The same stubbornness, even hard-headedness at times, that more often than not gets us into trouble. The same wish to be strong for those we love..' Uncle Graham sighed, combing his hand through his greying hair. 'But when I look at you, I see your mother. She was never one to back down from a fight either. She would do what was right, not what was easy. She was the strongest person that I know and I often wish that I was a little more like her.'

Unconsciously, Daisy had resumed her seat in front of him. Her uncle had never spoken about her Mum, not this openly at least.

'I remember clearly the day when she first came back from that school. Her eyes twinkling, her face lit up with a smile that could put the sun to shame.. very much like yourself.' The smile that had momentarily graced his aging face vanished and he had looked back out of the window, his eyes glazing over in memory, his mind lost in the past. 'Then suddenly everything went to ruin.'

He had not been able to continue after that, suddenly overcome with emotions that seemed to have been repressed for years. Daisy, despite her curiosity, had not pushed him. Instead, she had waited patiently, being immersed in thoughts herself. She knew what was coming, it being the very thing that she'd wanted to know more about, but somehow found herself not quite as eager as she'd expected to be.

After a long, pregnant pause Graham McCalman had continued. 'Danielle had seen it coming. For months, she had seen them everywhere, waiting, watching..'

'They?'

'Their killers. Although the newspapers made it out to be an unfortunate accident, being at the wrong place at the wrong time, your parents' death was anything but accidental. She.. Danielle told me one afternoon when she was visiting with you about her suspicions, but I did not take them serious at the time, thinking it was nothing more than her imagination. She asked me to take care of you if anything were ever to happen and of course, to humour her, I'd agreed. Although I certainly did stand behind my promise, I never thought that it would actually get to that.'

There was the answer to her questions. There was the answer that she had already suspected, but had still not been ready to hear. Her mother had been hunted, probably for her gift, and it had gotten not only her, but also her father killed. It made her feel sad and not a little scared of her own future.

The conversation had quickly ended after that, neither of them wishing to talk any more. Daisy had gone back upstairs, packing the rest of her things with shaky hands and an absent mind.

'Leaky Cauldron,' Stanley Shunpipe announced, before the Knight Bus came to a sudden stop in the middle of the street. Most of the passengers were thrown from their seats, their luggage laying scattered on the ground.

Daisy send a short nod towards the young conductor – the irony of the word not escaping her – and got off the bus. She was glad that she'd thought of putting her presents back in her trunk _before_ the bus driver had hit the brakes, or else she would have surely lost her things.

Walking up to the bar, she inquired after her room. When all of that seemed to be in order, Daisy ordered a small dinner from the bald landlord.

The Hogwarts Express would not leave until tomorrow morning, but she had decided that it was better to be safe than sorry and so had opted to spent the last night of her holiday in the wizard pub. Now, as she stood alone in the very shady tavern, she regretted that decision.

Suddenly, an arm clasped her shoulder and she was turned around rather harshly. 'Merlin's beard, what a coincidence!'

Recognizing him even before she looked up at the broad, muscled man a feeling of dread overwhelmed her and she felt physically sick to her stomach.

'Me and some friends are seated just over there. Let me introduce you, I'm sure they'll love to meet the Quidditch bird I told them all about!'

Being led to one of the tables in the corner, she felt like a lamb being brought to slaughter and only one thought entered her mind: This could impossibly end well..


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Hello everyone! I'm sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter, but I worked to get it done today. I want to thank _monsta-starr _and _that red head girl 14 _for their lovely reviews. You are wonderful and I am really happy you like this story and my main character so much! Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 25

As Daisy stood with the Comet 260 between her legs, ready to kick off into the air, there was only one thought in her mind: how did it get this far?

Only two hours ago she had found herself in the shady, but warm and safe tavern of the Leaky Cauldron, ready to enjoy a nice dinner before retiring to bed early. Now, she stood on a large field with a broom that she had no idea how to handle underneath her, and several friendly young lads hovering mid-air, waiting for her to show off her amazing Quidditch skills.

Of course, in hindsight, the moment that she'd joined Robert – which she had learned was the shopkeeper's name – could definitely be identified as the point from whereon it had all started to go downhill quickly.

First there had been the Butterbeers, which she had eagerly accepted to warm her insides. Then there had been the stories.. While the others told of their great accomplishments and skills in Quidditch, along with funny and slightly embarrassing anecdotes about the others, Daisy had taken to refabricating everything that she could remember Harry and Ron telling her into one or two stories, if only to not look suspicious. Again, in hindsight, this could definitely be marked as another point on which things had gone downhill. It was then, after several Butterbeers – and some Firewhiskys for the men – one of them had proposed to play some Quidditch and the others, equally drunk and merry, had immediately accepted.

Despite Daisy's numerous objections – 'My broom is still at Hogwarts', 'I forgot my gear', 'I'm really tired!' , among other things – twenty minutes later, she had found herself on a wide, empty field a little outside of London. The winter evening air was cold and bit at her exposed skin, even with her feet still firmly planted on the ground, and gave her even more reason to want to stay where she was.

'We don't kick girls from their brooms on a first game, you know,' one of the guys jokingly called down at her. The others laughed at this, but she only became more nervous.  
Apart from of the obvious fact that she had never ridden a broom before which caused her to be reluctant to kick herself off, there was the added stress of her fear of heights that made her feet too feel extra heavy. It would be so easy to just tell them the truth, a voice in her head said. She could simply tell them that she'd been dishonest and, were she to tell them why she'd felt pressured to lie, she was sure that they wouldn't be too cross with her.

Suddenly one of the figures in the air moved his broom down, flying towards her and stopping just a few metres in front of her. 'Are you alright?'

She stayed silent for a moment, the rational part of her screaming at her to tell the truth, then she bit her lip. And nodded.

'Sure? You look a little pale.'

'Yeah, it's just a little cold. I'm sure I'll feel better when I've warmed up a little,' she cracked a smile, internally being scolded by whatever portion of reason she still had left. It could have been so simple, yet her pride withheld her from confessing.

He gave a hesitant nod, then casually flew back to the others, leaving her back alone to her thoughts – and fears.

Her fingers were tightly wrapped around the wooden shaft, her knuckles white with the force she was exercising. Closing her eyes, Daisy prayed to whatever God was up there, as she pushed off from the ground.

As the safety from the ground disappeared from underneath her, she chanced a peak through narrowed eyes. The broom was leisurely ascending and for a moment, it felt like everything was going pretty well. She was still seated on her broom, not sliding nor falling off, and was about to congratulate herself on this small feat when a gust of wind hit her, causing her broom to swerve to the side. In a moment of sheer panic, she squeezed her eyes shut, her grip on the handle – if possible – tightening.

When the broom had regained a balance once more, she dared to fly closer to the group of men, and forced herself to regain a neutral expression.

'D'you want to fly some circles to warm up a bit?' Robert asked her as she finally joined their group.

Shaking her head a little too violently, she forced on a smile. 'No, no, that won't be necessary.'

The shopkeeper nodded, then began to make teams and explain the rules of their informal game of Quidditch. Between not looking down and trying to keep her balance, Daisy noted that they seemed pretty similar to what she knew of the official rules. Her job would be to try and catch a charmed golf ball before the other team's seeker.

Too soon the game began and as the balls were released into the air and the other players zoomed off, she was left hoovering in mid-air. She scanned the field for any sign of the pink golf ball, but had trouble moving her body on the broom without losing her balance. A flash of pink from her left caught her attention and, with difficulty, she nudged her broom in that direction.

By the time that she was even remotely close to the place where she'd seen the golf ball, the other team's seeker – Kevin – had already passed her and the ball was long gone. She stopped again, trying to scan her surroundings for the pink from her broom, but finding she was still greatly limited in her movement.

With a little more speed than last time – and her hands a little tighter gripped around the broom – she flew back towards the centre of the pitch, looking around her as she went. She noticed Kevin was hovering several metres above her, but from the way he looked over the field, she guessed he, too, didn't know where the ball was. That was good, because it at least made her look like not too crappy a player.

As she thought about this, another flash of pink was caught in the periphery of her vision and she turned in that direction. Once again she nudged her broom forward a little faster, hoping to get to the ball before Kevin would notice her movement.

For a moment, it seemed like she would actually succeed but then, only about two metres from reaching the golf ball, it turned and flew down, closer to the ground. Chancing a look behind her, Daisy noticed that the other seeker had caught on to her chasing behaviour and was flying rapidly in her direction. It was now or never. Without giving herself a chance to think twice, she pushed the front of her broom down, the way she'd seen the other players do, and dove down.

In that next moment, everything suddenly went very fast. One minute, she was still firmly gripping onto her broom, a part of her thinking that she might actually catch the ball in her outstretched hand. The next, she felt her thighs slide over the smooth wood of the broom and the ground was even more swiftly approaching.

When she next opened her eyes, Daisy was looking up at the dark night sky, a circle of heads looking down at her with expressions ranging from concern to amusement.

'Are you okay?' One asked, his voice filled with concern. 'You took quite a tumble there.'

She nodded, propping herself up onto her elbows and looking around her, forcing the dizziness down. She noticed all the brooms lying haphazardly scattered around her, along with the Quaffle. The pink golf ball, she noted with a tinge of bitterness, was still flying free. 'What happened?'

Kevin, who was casually leaning on his Nimbus, was the first to speak. 'You forgot to tighten the grip on your thighs as you dove, causing you to slide off from your broom. It's a mistake beginners often make.'

'Why didn't you tell us?' Robert asked her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Daisy looked down at her hands, noticing the small scraps on the skin of her hands and forearms. 'I guess I didn't want to be inferior.'

He shook his head. 'You should have. Flying a broom is dangerous; you're lucky you got off with as few injuries as you did.'

She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. She knew he was right, but knew that, given the choice to go back in time, she wouldn't do it any other way. Her pride wouldn't allow her.

'Was this your first time on a broom?'

'It was.'

'The grip of your hands was too tight, which caused it to be inflexible and your balance to be fragile. You forgot to use your legs for grip as well and you let your fear rather than the broom guide your movement. But all in all, it wasn't at all bad for a first.'

She smiled weakly at his attempt to comfort her. 'Thanks..'

'No, I mean it!' He continued. 'I'm sure with a little practice you would be quite a capable seeker.'

'I think I'd rather keep my feet on the ground in the future, if you don't mind. So far, that has been going quite well for me.'

They all laughed at that.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Hello everyone! How was your week? I want to thank _FangedMe _(I would probably do the same haha!) and _White Wolf Writers _(I am really really glad you like the story and Daisy as much as you do. You made me blush with all your compliments, haha. Enjoy this chapter!) for their lovely reviews, you are amazing and I love you! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 26

'So what happened at the Yule Ball?' Daisy said nonchalantly, though the piercing gaze she directed in the brunette's direction told her it was not a casual question. During dinner, Hermione had filled her in on everything that had happened at Hogwarts during the holidays – which, truthfully, wasn't all that much. As she recounted one occasion in specific, Daisy couldn't help but be distracted by the tension that seemed to hang all around the Golden Trio. Though Harry at least seemed to make an effort to be nice, Ron was straight-out glaring at Hermione, and she got an _inkling_ of a feeling that something had happened. After that, it was hard not to notice how the redhead grunted at the mention of the Ball and how Hermione subtly skipped over the entire event, deciding only to tell Daisy of the magnificent work the decoration crew had done. She had let it slide for the moment, knowing that it would be easier to get the story without Ron's interruptions.

Hermione looked up from her book, then quickly looked back down again. It was enough to catch the look on her face, though. 'Nothing.'

'Hermione, I might not be sharpest tool in the shed, but I'm not an idiot,' she gave the girl another pointed look from across the room. 'Unless you offed his sister, which I certainly would have no qualms against, I don't think he could look at you any more furious.'

A moment of silence followed and, glancing at the closed bathroom door to check that Lavender was still in there, she sighed and put away her book. 'Viktor Krum asked me to the Ball.' The words tumbled out of her mouth rapidly and in so soft a voice, Daisy was about to ask for her to repeat herself when the meaning of the words sunk in.

'And?'

'I accepted.'

Daisy furrowed her eyebrows at this. 'I thought Ron had this big crush on him?'

The other girl smiled softly at her choice of words, then a frown marred her face again. 'Somehow, that didn't stop him from calling _me_ a traitor.'

Stopping herself from going on an hour-long rant about the hot-headed idiot, she instead smiled wickedly at her. 'So how was it?'

Hermione didn't immediately reply, instead opting to look everywhere but at her as she struggled to form an answer. 'It was.. nice.'

'Nice?' She repeated slowly, blinking incredulously at her. 'God Hermione, I want details! Dirty details!'

'Well, we kissed.'

'And?'

'I suppose it wasn't that bad.'

'What else?'

'Nothing else..' she seemed to think for a while, then smiled softly. 'He did hold my hand for some time.'

'I meant about the kiss,' Daisy clarified, then sighed dramatically. 'You're horrible at this, Hermione.'

At that moment, before Hermione had a chance to defend herself, the door of the bathroom opened and Lavender came out, her hair still wet from her shower. She stopped as she noticed the eerie silence in the room, looking between the girls as if she was watching a game of tennis. 'Did I interrupt something.'

'Of course not,' Hermione quickly said, probably more than happy with the escape.

Daisy merely mumbled under her breath, something that sounded awfully much like "dumb cow". Then, since she knew all chance of getting more details was now lost, she returned to unpacking the last of her personal belongings. When that was done – and her temper had cooled down enough to even think about sleeping – she changed into her bed attire.

However, as she was about to pull on the warm, flannel jacket of her winter pyjama, a gasp from across the room made her stop what she was doing. Looking up at the source, she found Hermione staring at her with her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide as saucers.

'You said your holidays were "quiet and uneventful",' she said bristly as she came over to Daisy's side and gently prodded her ribs. The dull ache it caused reminded her of the bruises that still covered most of her body after her little Quidditch accident.

Daisy pulled the jacket over her head before she answered, not being comfortable with the staring of the two girls. 'It was, most of the time.'

'You're one big bruise!'

'Then stop prodding!'

Though her face was still all worry, Hermione did take a step back before she spoke again. 'What happened?'

And that's how she ended up recounting her not so quiet and very eventful last day of the holidays to the girls. Parvati, who had sneaked in somewhere during the story, had quickly joined the other girls on her bed.

Of course Hermione had deemed her a right idiot, but the other two girls had thought it quite exciting that she'd spent the evening with seven muscled young men – much to her annoyance. By the end of her tale, both of them were scolding her for not taking Kevin up on his proposal for Quidditch lessons.

* * *

During her first day of term it quickly became clear to Daisy that although the strange behaviour of her fellow Gryffindors towards her had lessened, it certainly had not stopped. And so, as Ginny Weasley passed the table she was seated at in the library, she grabbed her arm. 'I thought I told you to right the situation concerning Draco Malfoy and mine supposed relationship.'

The younger girl didn't seem surprised at all by the man-handling she received and merely shrugged her hand off of her. 'I did. I told everyone he dumped you.' Crossing her arms, the look of victory was momentarily replaced with one of faux innocence. 'It must be really hard for him to know you cheated on him with his best friend, Vincent Crabbe, and that so short before Christmas.'

A second of complete silence passed and then Daisy was suddenly on her feet, her wand drawn and ready to hex the brat into oblivion. 'Bad move, Weasel.'

For the first time in the conversation, all playfulness had gone out of Ginny Weasley's face, draining the blood with it as well. Looking between Daisy's murderous eyes and the tip of her wand, she took a step back. 'You can't use that,' she said, stuttering ever so slightly as if she did not believe it herself. 'It's forbidden to attack other students.'

Daisy didn't answer, instead raking her brain for a good spell to use on the younger girl. The simple hexes they'd learned so far were all too mild and she found herself wondering if vanishing spells worked on body parts as well. Before she could bring that theory to the test, a voice interrupted the murderous road her thoughts were going down – and managed to make her blood boil even more.

'As much as I would like to see you Gryffindors fight, professor Snape asked me to collect you and I really have no intention to waste any more time on you than is absolutely necessary.'

'Piss off, Malfoy.'

A deep sigh was heard, then he grabbed her arm rather roughly and practically dragged her from the library. It was only when they were a good few, long corridors away that he released her and rounded on her. 'What the bloody Hell did you think you were doing?'

'Giving the little shit what she deserved.'

'Do you _ever_ think before you act?'

She shrugged and crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'What do you care, Malfoy?'

'I don't,' he answered simply, mirroring her stance. 'But if your secret comes out, then who's not to say that you will rat out my involvement in keeping it?'

By now it was clear that professor Snape had never asked the Slytherin to collect her and she realised that he had somewhat saved her arse. Unwillingly, yes, but he had saved her from expulsion no less. That small realisation didn't ease the bite in her next words, however. 'Well I will be sure to think of your ass next time I'm planning a murder.'

He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to reign in his temper. 'Do you have no control over yourself whatsoever? I mean, what did the she-Weasel even do to get you so riled up.'

~ Draco ~

Her silence irked Draco, especially since he had just saved her ass. Really, if he had not stopped her, she would probably be packing her things as they spoke. And he didn't even have to do it. Of course it was not a complete lie that he didn't trust her enough to know she wouldn't rat him out. But truthfully, that had not been his main reason for doing what he had done. What the main reason was? He did not know. They were not friends, didn't even like each other and apart from their vow he had no reason to feel connected to her whatsoever. And especially after the singing scarf incident at Christmas which he had no doubt was her doing – and which had cost him nearly half an hour to get it off – any logical reason for helping her was practically non-existent. And yet he had. 'Well?'

'It was nothing.'

He pulled up one of his eyebrows. 'This was nothing? Well then I surely don't want to see you when something _did_ happen.'

The girl squirmed underneath his intent gaze, but nevertheless kept her mouth shut. Once again, he found that he would be almost impressed, were he not so terribly annoyed by her. It seemed to be a recurring situation..

'Fine,' he snapped, dropping her bag – which he had taken with them from the library, but only now remembered he was still holding – in front of her. 'Keep your secrets. But don't expect me to help you again next time.'

He turned on his heel, ready to go back to the common room, since his intention to study in the library had all but gone well. He had taken but two steps when her soft voice made him come to a stop.

'Thank you.'

He didn't turn around, didn't give her any reason to believe he had even heard her words, but found himself smirking nonetheless as he continued.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Hey everyone. First of all I want to say that I am terribly sorry for not getting this chapter up in time. I've had a rather crappy week and I have exams next week so I was kept rather busy. I want to thank _sanna11_ for her review, you are amazing! Now, enjoy this week's chapter and don't forget to review!**

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Chapter 27

'Daisy!'

Her head snapped up, and as her thoughts slowly turned to the present, Daisy noticed just in time that Harry, Ron and Hermione – who had been walking in front of her – had come to a halt at the sound. Stopping herself, she looked over her shoulder to see Amanda looking at her expectantly. The Hufflepuff was still at the desk she had been seated behind in their class of Defence Against the Dark Arts, her hastily packed bag swung over her shoulder.

Looking at the three Gryffindors, Daisy smiled tightly. 'I'll catch up with you guys at dinner.'

They didn't say anything, only nodding and waving as they turned to leave. Hermione, who knew of the current tensions between the two friends, gave her a meaningful look.

Amanda and Daisy stood still until the last of the students had filed out of the classroom and even then, for a moment they just stood and stared at each other.

'Well?' Daisy finally said, breaking the silence at last.

'Not here,' her voice was soft as she spoke and she glanced over her shoulder, to where professor Moody was still gathering his things. He was not turned to them, but Daisy knew that was not a necessity with his magical eye. For all they knew he was eyeing them through the back of his head. They left the classroom in quietness, neither of them knowing what to say.

After what seemed like an eternity – but was actually only two corridors – the Hufflepuff turned to her. Sighing deeply, she interlinked her fingers. She opened her mouth a couple of times, her eyebrows furrowing as she clearly sought for the right words. 'I don't want to talk to you, really; I'm not ready to forgive you, yet. Not after you treated me like you did.' She breathed in, the sound almost deafening in the silent hallway. 'But I'm not here for myself.'

At Daisy's empty look, she continued.

'Cedric knew we are, or well we _were_ friends and that you and Harry Potter are friends as well. He asked me to… well, he heard that Potter had not found out the clue from the egg.'

'So?'

The Hufflepuff ignored the obvious bite in her voice, instead focusing on her task. Luckily, for otherwise the two would have never become friends in the first place. 'Cedric advised him to think about it in the comfort of the Prefect's Bathroom.'

Daisy pulled up her eyebrow, but nodded anyway. 'I'll be sure to pass on the message.'

After that, the two parted ways without another word.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since that day, but they had not spoken another word.

That evening at dinner she had relayed Cedric's advice to Harry, which he had headed that very same day. After his bath in the Prefect's Bathroom, he came back with dampened hair and the answer to what the second task would entail.

Daisy knew that it was now her turn to make a move. Amanda had been the first to abandon her pride and seek contact – even if it was forced – and now the ball was in her court again. And it had been for two weeks.

Despite that knowledge, she had avoided the Hufflepuff like the plague. Whenever she would see her in the hallways, Daisy would avert her eyes to the ground or take another road to her classes altogether – even if that meant taking twice as long. It was pathetic, she knew, and yet it seemed better than to throw her pride out of the window.

It was on a rather taxing Monday in the beginning of February when she decided that she'd had enough of it. That morning she'd had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs which, in her case, meant trying anything and everything to put as much distance between Amanda and herself. They had been revising the Fire-Making Spell; a rather dangerous thing when one was only concentrated half on the task at hand. As a result, Daisy had almost set Neville Longbottom's robes on fire once and later in the class even a strand of Hermione curly hair. After that – and after the brunette had put out the fire with a quick extinguishing spell – Hermione had gotten so mad at her that she'd been forced to turn her attention back to the class. She now knew that, although watching Hermione blow up on Harry and Ron was rather amusing, having the same thing happen to her was not funny at all and was, in fact, rather frightening.

After Herbology, they'd gone out to Care of Magical Creatures, which was given by a replacement after a defamatory article about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Profit. Of course, most of the Gryffindors knew that the whole thing had been nothing but lies, but that did not count for the rest of the school. On top of that, they had the class with the Slytherins, which got Daisy constantly in a dilemma whether she wanted to poke one of their eyes out with her wand or hex them into the next century.

After lunch she had Arithmancy with Hermione, which was its usual torture. In her old school, math had never been her strongest suit. Now, why she had chosen a class that was so clearly mathematically influenced was beyond her. The only real luck she had was to have Hermione sitting next to her, for that meant she could at least get the gist of what professor Vector was going on about. That torture had lasted from lunch until dinner and after eating a small amount of mashed potatoes and carrots, she'd decided that she was completely done for that day. A partly finished essay for Charms class was still waiting for her in the Common Room, along with a lot of reading that she still needed to catch up on, but she figured it could wait – at least until tomorrow.

So when they had all arrived in the Gryffindor Tower, Daisy had thrown the contents of her bag onto her bed and had replaced it with the photo album that still lay on her bedside table. She had wanted to look through it earlier, but somehow had never found the time for it. Now, however, seemed as good a time as any other.

The Common Room was far too crowded for her liking and would surely result in questions that she did not care to answer. So she passed through quickly and quietly, making sure not to attract attention to herself.

Her feet had almost automatically found its way towards the library after that. It was the most logical choice after all; no one would dare to cause any excitement there. As she wandered down to the library, she paid little attention to her surroundings and was therefore quite surprised when she suddenly found herself on the first floor. There, with little more attention, she walked towards her destination.

With her mind still very much focused inwards, she didn't notice the person at the other end of the hallway until she was right in front of her. Then, as she finally recognized the Hufflepuff, it was too late to turn back. 'Hey.'

'Hey.'

A moment of silence passed between them and Daisy looked down to see a scroll of parchment protrude from Amanda's bag. 'Finished your homework?'

'Yeah..'

She bit her lip, clutching the album a little tighter. 'I was just..'

'I know.'

'All right, well.. I guess I'll see you again.'

Amanda nodded 'Good night.'

A moment passed when Daisy just stared at her former friend's retreating back. The friend who had always been there for her, but who she had shamelessly let down. Then, she sighed. 'Amanda, wait.'

The Hufflepuff turned around, a curious, yet guarded look on her face.

'My Aunt and Uncle gave me this photo album for Christmas. I was going to the library to look through it alone but.. well, I don't really want to be alone anymore.' The question was never spoken, but Amanda understood anyway, for she nodded and walked back in her direction.

Together, they passed the last few corridors to the library, where they sought to find a secluded corner. Laying the heavy album on the table, they made themselves comfortable. Daisy put her hand on the blue cover, yet made no attempt to open it. Looking down at the floral motive, she traced the lines slowly with her fingers. 'You have every right to be angry with me.' She didn't look up as she spoke those words, instead keeping her eyes locked on the movement of her fingers. 'I know I wasn't exactly the best of friends to you. You were there for me and I knew I could trust you, that I could confide in you. I just… I just never did. It never seemed like the right time and then all of a sudden, it seemed like it was too late.' Chancing a look through her lashes, the look on Amanda's face was unreadable. 'I know it's not an excuse, but perhaps it can be a reason?' Once again, as silence fell, the Hufflepuff made no attempt to end it and so Daisy pressed on, insecurity growing with every moment of silence from her friend.

'Whether you accept my apologies or not, I just want you to know I am sorry.'

'It's all right.'

Daisy shook her head. 'It's not. I didn't treat you like you deserved and I am sorry for that. But I want you to know that I never intended to confide in Malfoy! Yes, I didn't tell you, but I never intended for that git to know before you.'

A small smile broke out on the Hufflepuff's face. 'So the rumours are not true.'

'Rumou… God no! Besides, if I really would want to cheat on Malfoy, I think I could find someone a little more handsome than Crabbe..'

'I already found it hard to believe that you would actually do that,' she pulled up her nose in disgust at the idea.

Daisy smiled at that, but quickly reminded herself of the serious nature of their conversation. 'Anyways, I just want you to know that of everyone, I would have told you first. Malfoy just never really gave me an option.'

'Then consider your apology accepted,' the two smiled at each other for a moment, then Amanda gently nudged her. 'Now are we still going to open this book or are we just going to stare at it until it will open itself?'

Chuckling softly, Daisy thought to herself how maybe – maybe – her own sarcasm had rubbed off a little on the timid Hufflepuff. She did not say this however, knowing that Amanda would be all but pleased to hear about this new development, instead opening the album on the first page. Instead of pictures, there was a small, folded paper taped to the first page and she gingerly opened it.

All feelings of amusement left her as she read the first words, however, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

'What is it?'

'It's from my Mum.'


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Hey guys and welcome back to this week's chapter. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger last week, but I hope you guys don't hate me too much. Big thank you to _that red head girl 14_ for reviewing. You're amazing. Now have fun!**

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Chapter 28

For a moment both of them sat in silence. Then Amanda, whose own curiosity had gotten the better of her, broke it. 'I thought your parents had died?'

Daisy nodded absentmindedly, her eyes still focused on the piece of paper. 'They started this album. Before they died, they handed it over to my Aunt and Uncle so they might fill it further and give it to me when I'd turn eighteen. They realised they wouldn't be able to make a lot of photos now that I'm here at Hogwarts, so they gave it to me, along with a camera, so that I may finish it.'

'What does it say? The note, I mean.'

'It says.. She says happy birthday, and she hopes my Aunt made the treacle tarts I was always so fond of.' A corner of her mouth lifted in half a smile and she tore her eyes away from the letter for a moment to look at her friend. 'That's funny you know; those are still my favourites.'

Amanda didn't say anything, instead gesturing for her to go on.

'She says that she and my Dad loved me very much.. and that they always will.' Her voice broke and she choked up. 'She says they are both very proud of me and that whatever happens, they will always be with me.' Her sight had grown hazy from the tears and she handed the letter to the Hufflepuff, trusting her to read the last lines.

And surely, soon Amanda's smooth voice filled the silent library. 'I trust that you will do what is right in the end, my darling daughter. With all my love, Mum.'

The two silently stared at the innocent photo album, both lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't an answer to either of their questions. But it was definitely a start.

* * *

It had almost been midnight when Daisy finally made her way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Before they had actually had the chance to open the album, Madame Pince had shooed them out of the library because they were closing. The two friends had then moved to an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor, where they had made themselves comfortable on the ground. By the light of their wands, they had looked through the photos. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Daisy had actually felt glad that she'd shared this personal experience with another person. And so, when they had finally reached the last, photo-covered page, she started her story.

Before either of them had realised it, it had been half past eleven and both had jumped up in surprise. Gathering their belongings, they had exchanged hushed goodbyes before they'd gone their own way. For Daisy, this had meant sprinting up three flights of stairs, dodging a tired looking McGonagall and a mumbling Snape and at last a quarrel with the Fat Lady about the time. She could only hope that Amanda had less trouble getting to her dormitories.

By the time she had brushed her teeth and had slipped underneath her covers – not before she got a sharp tongue-lashing of Hermione who woke up at the noise – it was half past twelve and she knew she would be dead tired the next day. Yet, sleep would still not come to her.

Throughout the night, she was kept awake by images of long-forgotten times. If it were actual memories, or just her mind reconstructing things from pictures, she did not know. Whatever it was, it made Daisy realise for the very first time in her life that she had missed her parents. Even though she could not remember them – not really at least – she had missed a mother and father. Somehow, no matter how kind and loving they were, aunts and uncles just weren't the same.

The next morning, as was to be expected on less than two hours sleep, Daisy woke up as tired as when she'd finally fallen asleep and twice as cranky. With enormous effort, she hoisted herself out of bed and slowly went to dressing herself. All unnecessities such as doing her hair or even washing her face were forgotten and as she stumbled out of the bathroom, she felt as if she was still half asleep. Picking her bag up off the floor, Daisy swung it over her shoulder rather clumsily and in the process, knocked the photo album from her nightstand.

As she went to pick it up, though, she noticed something else. A small, brown, leather-bound book lay underneath the big album and Daisy realised it must have come from _inside_ the album. Putting the photo album back on the nightstand, she sat on her bed and flipped the little book open on the first page.

The script was handwritten and, even if the initials at the bottom of the page had not given it away, reminded her immediately of last night. It had been her mother's. And _it_ seemed to be a diary. Intrigued, she began to read.

'You should have really started earlier with learning for professor Binn's quiz if you wanted to be prepared. I asked some of the fifth years and they told me it was rather difficult… Daisy?'

'Hmmm.'

Hermione huffed. 'Are you even listening?'

'Yes of course, the quiz.'

'What one?'

This caused the strawberry blonde to look up from the small book in her lap, a confused look only briefly visible on her face. 'The one you were just talking about.'

The brunette huffed again, then breathed in deeply. She had tried this approach before but it never really seemed to intimidate the girl very much. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm. 'I'm going down for breakfast, are you coming?'

'I'm not really hungry,' Daisy said, her eyes already turned back to the diary 'I'll see you guys in History of Magic class.'

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something about the small book that she had only just noticed was not notes for History of Magic, but then finally decided against it. Instead, she left with a simple 'Don't be late!'.

Daisy, in the meanwhile, had skimmed many of the first pages of the diary. It appeared that it was from the year in which her parents had met their ending, if her calculations were correct only two months before that night. Beside a lot of talk about her toddler-self, Danielle spoke often about her fears. Even two months before the actual attack she reported feeling uneasy, feeling like she was being followed by a blond man. As she read on, Daisy clearly noticed the switch in undertone, her mother going from distrustful to scared to death in a matter of weeks. The blond man seemed to be everywhere, always watching, always waiting. Sometimes he was alone and he would merely watch her from across the street, sometimes he and his friends would follow her home, only to vanish the moment she tried to show her husband. At first he had then of course not taken her serious, thinking it to be a joke of some sort. That was before the first attack.

Although Danielle was tight-lipped about the entire ordeal, Daisy could gather a couple of things from her mother's shaken handwriting. One, her attackers had been wizards. Second, they were the same men as Danielle had described before. And last, she was lucky to have survived. Despite being magical, the men had attacked her mother with a knife. This would have struck Daisy as being rather odd, were it not for the fact that she knew that the Conductor could not be killed with magic. And evidently, they had known it, too.

Shaken by this first attempt on her mother's life, Daisy was about to lay the book down for today when she noticed the hasty scrawl on the bottom of the page. The two words were written in a bright red colour and were clearly added later on. That, however, was not what made her drop the book. That was not why she forgot to breathe, why she forgot that in five minutes she was supposed to be in History of Magic class.

'Lucius Malfoy.'

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**AN: So what do you think she will do now? Will she be angry? scared? Let me know!**


	29. Chapter 29

****AN: Hello everyone and welcome back to another chapter of The Conductor. I hope you all had a good week and are having a great weekend. A big thank you to my lovely reviewers: _Daisy_ (thank you so much for your praise and I'm glad you like it!), _that red head girl 14, sakurapetals0192 _**_and_** Sanna11.**** **_Now, enjoy the chapter guys!_**

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Chapter 29

The semester had only started for two weeks, but Draco Malfoy was already looking forward to the summer holidays. Classes were annoying as always, with incompetent teachers and most irritating classmates. At times, even after four years of being stuck with Crabbe and Goyle, he was still struck by some people's utter stupidity – and truthfully, that said something.

Somehow rumours of the supposed relationship he would be having with a certain Gryffindor had managed to seep through the thick walls of the Slytherin Common Room. He had hoped by taking Pansy to the Yule Ball, he would finally be left alone, but apart from ruining his mood for an entire week, it'd had no effect. Instead, he was still forced to hear talk of his lover every single time the girl in question would be in the same corridor or class room. With them sharing several classes that was, unfortunately, quite often.

'Look Draco, it's your girlfriend!' And apparently today would be no different..

He sighed inwardly, wishing nothing more than to curse the person who dared to say something on the matter. He was a Malfoy, however, and had a name to uphold and therefore, he merely cursed the other boy in his head. 'If the rumour of she being my girlfriend were true, Crabbe, then shouldn't the one of her cheating on me with you also be? I'm sure even you would have noticed it if that were the case.'

He turned his head away from his fellow Slytherin, instead looking at his supposed girlfriend. He supposed it could have been worse. They could have said that he dated the mud blood. By Merlin's beard, _that_ would have been a problem.

Observing her from across the hallway, he supposed she could even be thought of as pretty – if one were to ignore her blatantly annoying personality of course. Draco noticed she was once again accompanied by the Bulgarian boy and that irked him. No, something about the boy himself irked him, made him want to spontaneously hex him every time he saw him. It was… curious.

Before he had any time to dwell on the matter however, his "girlfriend" suddenly noticed him from across the hallway. The wide smile on her face almost instantly disappeared and something seemed to shift behind her eyes. For a moment she just stood there, ignoring the Bulgarian that was obviously still talking to her, and glared at him fiercely. Then, she stormed up to the Slytherins.

The Gryffindor did not stop until she was right in his face, her nose only inches removed from his. Grabbing him by his tie, she looked positively murderous and for a second – though he would never admit to it out loud, of course – Draco truly feared for his life.

'Tell someone of what happened and I _swear _to you; you will regret it.' She hissed to Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy who all wore the same look of incredulity. Then, without another warning, she started dragging him away.

A couple of seconds passed before he himself woke from his daze, but then he dug his heels in and forced her to a halt. 'What do you think you're doing?' He demanded.

She stared at him for a moment, then simply resumed pulling him along the corridor.

'Unless you're looking for a place to hide my body, I'd say this is quite far enough.'

To his relief, she did indeed stop, but not before muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "I might be". Then, before he had even time to enjoy his full long function again, the girl rounded on him and pushed something in his face.

'You know what this is?! This is my Mom's diary of the months before my parents were killed. It details one of the attempts and you know what's funny? _Your_ father's name is written beneath it. Funny, isn't it?' She was babbling, her eyes sparked with a mad glint and a sort of crazed smile was on her lips. She was seconds away from losing it. 'If I didn't have enough reason to hate you for eternity already, I do now. _Your_ father killed my parents.'

'Hold on,' he said, raising up one of his hands. If he wanted to reason with her in any way, he had to stop the dam from breaking before it was too late. 'Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions here? My father killing your parents just because his name _happens_ to be written somewhere in some silly book. That's a little..-'

Wrong move. 'Silly book?!' she echoed, her voice barely more than a shriek. 'You think _this_,' she held up the diary, 'is a silly book?'

'That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that, well, don't you think that perhaps you're overreacting a little?'

'No!' She yelled, then repeated in a lower, but equally livid voice. 'I know your father killed them and you dare to ask me if I'm not overreacting.'

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated his options. Admitting that they were, indeed, quite few, he knew he had no choice but to admit. 'Fine, yes; my father _did_ kill your parents. But what do you expect me to do about that?'

The Gryffindor's eyes grew big and for a moment – the first one in the entire conversation – she seemed unable to find words. When she at last recovered, her voice was small and she seemed almost.. hurt? 'You knew?'

'Of course I knew,' he scoffed, though he kept a watchful eye on her expression as he continued. 'Where else do you think I learned those things about the Conductor?'

The hurt was gone from her face in an instant, replaced by uncontrollable anger. 'You told him about me? You insufferable prat! I knew I should have just..-'

'Just what? Waited for me to explain myself before you jump to conclusions?'

She opened her mouth, but he didn't allow her the chance to speak back.

'You know what I think? I think you let the anger take over because you're incapable of allowing yourself to feel weak.'

~ Daisy ~

Daisy grew silent once again, not knowing what to say. A part of her hated him for saying these things to her. And a part of her.. well, a part of her realised that although she didn't like to hear these things, he was right. For as long as she could remember, she had gotten angry instead of sad, pushing fear away behind a tough exterior. For as long as she could remember she could not allow herself to be weak, if only because she had to be strong for the ones around her. They needed her to be strong.

'Maybe,' she admitted softly after a long time 'I'm not as strong as I like to make belief I am.'

Gazing up at him, she noticed Malfoy looked hesitant for a moment, then he sighed. 'Look, as much as I don't like this situation we're in and having to constantly have your back, I made a vow to keep your secret.'

He didn't say anything after that and Daisy later realised it had been Draco Malfoy's way of saying "You can trust me" – albeit a very reluctant way.

It was curious really, how she, who had such difficulties with letting someone in, always ended up lowering her guards around him, the one person she hated most. But perhaps, she found herself thinking, perhaps Draco Malfoy wasn't as bad as he seemed.

* * *

**AN: As you have read, my dear reviewers were partly right in their expectations. How did you like their conversation? Do you think their relationship will get better or worse because of it?**


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: Hi everyone! Welcome back to the 30 chapter already! Since 30 was such a milestone, I have an extra long chapter for you, which I hope you will enjoy! I want to thank _that red head girl 14 _for her lovely review, you're amazing!**

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Chapter 30

Quite against her own character and habits, Daisy had sought out Amanda as soon as she could after the whole ordeal. In hindsight, that alone seemed to be sign of how badly she was shaken by what Malfoy had told her, but at the time she just wrote it off as a new character development. Spending so much time around friendly, loyal Hufflepuffs had to do something to a person.

Luckily for her, it hadn't taken long for her to find the other girl since there were only two places that the Hufflepuff could be found in her spare time: the library or her dormitory. As the latter of the two would have put an end to her search for now, Daisy had been very happy to find Amanda at her usual place in the library.

At seeing her friend – and no doubt the distraught expression on her face – the Hufflepuff had pushed her Potion's essay aside, gesturing for her to sit down. In the few months that she had known Daisy, she had come to learn that more often than not, the Gryffindor would get carried away with her feelings.

As usual, Daisy had wasted little time on pleasantries – apart from acknowledging her with a sharp nod before she'd sat down – and immediately jumped to the heart of the matter. She'd quickly filled Amanda in about the diary she had found inside the photo album and of the name that was written at the bottom of one of the entries. To Daisy's content, the other girl had come to the same conclusion as her and did not seem to think she was _overreacting_. When she'd told her about Malfoy's observation about herself, however, a reaction had stayed out altogether. She had not asked for an explanation, nor had Amanda offered one, but the result was all the same: she kwen Amanda agreed.

Almost a month had passed since that day and things had been almost quiet. The rest of the diary did not produce any results, apart from the loss of a couple of nights' rest, and she had carefully hidden it in her bed table. She had not spoken to Malfoy either and she was glad that he had made no attempt to speak to her. Ever since his spot-on observation about her, she'd felt awfully naked around him.

The sudden sound of a chair scraping over the stone tiles woke her from her musings and as she gazed around bewilderedly, Daisy found that DADA was already over and she had barely heard a word. She would have to ask Hermione about the homework tonight. Gathering her things, she was about to follow the other students out when professor Moody's voice called her back.

He waited for the final student to leave before he turned to her. 'In duals, you need to know how to attack. But more importantly, you need to know how to properly defend yourself. Would you not agree, miss McCalman?'

She nodded 'Yes professor.'

'Defensive spells are therefore one of the most important parts of the curriculum. Do you agree, miss McCalman?'

'Yes professor.'

'Then _why_ were you not paying attention?!' He was very close to her now and she could see every scar on his face, every movement that his blue eye made independently of his other. 'Do you think dark wizards will wait for you to ready yourself? Do you think they will announce themselves before they strike? Constant vigilance, miss McCalman! If you cannot pay attention in class, how will you defend yourself when the time comes?'

A vision of what had happened to her parents flashed through her mind and she ground her teeth together. Her mother had known how to defend herself, but it had not been enough. 'I won't, professor.'

He gave a short nod, clearly satisfied with her answer. 'Then I suggest that you do better in the future. You cannot perform spells without knowing them – not even someone with such … _special_ abilities as you.'

'I-I don't know what you mean, professor. I'm simply..-'

'A fast learner,' he finished, his blue eye looking straight through her. 'I've seen many talented witches and wizards, miss McCalman. Yet I've yet to see someone who can learn whatever spell in one try, whose magic is so strong that it can be wielded and bended to their will so easily..'

'I truly have no idea what you're talking about, professor.'

He looked contemplative for a moment, then suddenly nodded. 'You are dismissed.'

Grabbing her bag, she quickly made for the door, not waiting a second. The relief completely overrode her curiosity at his behaviour, supressing any thoughts she would have had on his sudden dismissal of her.

She was almost at the door when she felt it. A strange prickling sensation, starting in the middle of her back and traveling down to her toes and into her finger tips. Shaking it off, Daisy quickly resumed walking.

* * *

It was the day of the second task. Just like with the first, the morning passed by quite normally. Daisy spent her classes in a combination of daydreaming and doodling, now and then alternated with an desperate glance at her pocket watch. But for once, she wasn't the only one. With the prospect of an exciting tournament only a few hours ahead, many students had difficulties with keeping their mind on things. In fact, looking around the students in her Charms class, she found that the only one really paying attention was Hermione. The rest of them were either longingly looking out of the window or staring dully off into the distance.

When at last classes were over, the students were asked to go outside towards the Lake. Amanda, Stojan and Daisy had followed the crowd leisurely, not as eager to get a front-row seat as some of the others. Although they all supported a different champion, they had agreed to sit together and Daisy was quite content with that. She did not think she would survive sitting through the entire task next to Ron, who was almost more nervous than Harry himself. Thinking about Ron, she could not remember seeing him at lunch. Nor Hermione, for that matter. The reason for that, however, became clear soon.

As the task was explained to the champions and the crowd, expressions ranging from gobsmacked to anxious, Daisy took her time to scan the crowds. As she had expected, she did not find Ron on the tribunes, meaning that he was indeed one of the hostages. She was more surprised, however, to find that she could not find Hermione and she voiced her confusion.

A low chuckle escaped from the Bulgarian next to her. 'You wouldn't be so surprised if you had heard him talking about her _all_ day.'

It took a moment for his words to register, then a moment longer for Daisy to understand the meaning behind it. Another moment later, she still wasn't sure about her conclusion. 'Viktor?'

'It makes sense,' Amanda supplied 'The way he looked at her at the Ball, as if she put the stars in the sky.'

At that moment, the starting signal was given and all four champion moved into action. The three older champions quickly disappeared into the water and out of sight, but Harry took a bit longer. He seemed to be _chewing_ something and then all of a sudden, he sprouted gills from his neck and webs between his toes. It was a discomforting sight to say the least. However, before she had any more time to ponder on it, he, too, disappeared into the dark waters.

Suddenly, a thought appeared to her and she frowned deeply. 'And now what?'

'We wait.'

'For an _hour_?' She looked at the Hufflepuff in disbelief. 'I had hoped this task to be at least a bit more entertaining than staring at an empty lake for an hour.'

Amanda shook her head, chuckling softly, but said nothing about her complaints. By this time, she was used to her friend's behaviour and truthfully, wouldn't want her any other way. 'I'm sure we can keep ourselves entertained.'

The Gryffindor pulled a face, then sighed dramatically. 'I suppose we will just have to.'

Twisting in her seat, Daisy was about to ask Stojan to play a game with her but instead found the Bulgarian's face in a rather uncharacteristic frown. His eyes were locked on something behind them and the look in them was bordering on hateful. It was surprising, since he was a person of natural and everlasting good humour.

Following his gaze, she was even more surprised to find out what he was staring at – or rather; who. Looking between the two, Daisy did not know who was winning the glaring contest. Although inexperienced at the art of glaring, Stojan's was one of the familiar "if looks could kill" sort of glares – with kill being defined as brutally maimed and tortured before letting the other succumb to their wounds. Draco Malfoy gave as good as he got, however, with a far more experienced and refined glare that he normally preserved for people he _really_ hated, such as Dumbledore, Harry and well.. her.

'What are you doing?'

Without taking his eyes off of the blond he grunted: 'I don't like him.'

Daisy rolled her eyes at this, this being one of the few things that she already knew. 'Yes, well, I don't think anyone really does like Draco Malfoy. My question, however, was "what are _you_ doing"?'

'I don't trust him.' He muttered something in Bulgarian then, after which he turned his head away from the Slytherin abruptly. Breathing in deeply, he offered her a tight smile. 'I have to go to talk to one of my school, excuse me.' And without waiting for a response, he was gone.

Both of the girls stared after him, perplexed. 'What do you..-'

'I have no idea,' Amanda replied, already knowing her question. After a moment of silence, she posed one of her own. 'You told Stojan no one likes Draco Malfoy, but that's not true, is it? _You _like him.'

The Gryffindor shook her head. 'I don't like him – not at all, in fact. But I do trust him.'

Looking down at the front of the tribune, it was Daisy's turn to frown and a deep frown it was. Although professor Moody had not tried to confront her again after that day, she felt his eyes – or rather; eye – on her at all times. Even now, as he stood with his back turned to her, she felt the gaze of his blue eye on her. She shivered. 'I don't trust _him_.'

'Who? Stojan?' It was only now that Amanda had followed the Gryffindor's gaze, finding it once again focussed on their DADA teacher and she sighed. 'He's a teacher, Daisy.'

'Something is not right about him, I just know it. I don't like how he keeps prying, how he keeps getting closer to finding out my secret. I know you think me mad, but I swear he tried to use some sort of spell on me when we were last alone.'

'I don't think you're mad, Daisy. But, well, I am just saying that you're wrong about this. Professor Moody is a teacher, assigned by Dumbledore himself. I know he made some mistakes concerning Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers in the past, but Moody is a well-known auror. He fights against the dark arts!'

She did not say anything, knowing that she would not be able to change the Hufflepuff's mind about this.

In that moment screams of excitement filled the air and they looked up to see that Cedric Diggory had resurfaced. Closely held to him was his hostage who was, unsurprisingly, none other than Cho Chang. They swam to shore together, where they went to stand with a miserable looking Fleur Delacour.

Daisy frowned at this, not having noticed the Beauxbatons girl returning, but when she looked around, she failed to spot the girl's hostage.

'She failed the task,' Amanda informed her quietly 'Apparently she was attacked by grindylows and could not continue.'

Nodding in understanding, she was about to ask for the fate of her hostage when a second pair broke through the surface of the water. When his shark head transfigured back into that of a boy, she recognised him as the Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum. And in his arms was Hermione! This was good, she thought smugly, this was really good. She would want to hear Hermione deny that there was something between them now!

Another thought quickly replaced her musings about the famous Quidditch star's and her bookworm friend's relationship, however, when she noticed one champion was still missing. Where was Harry? Had he, too, gotten caught by some scary, underwater creature?

Around them, whisperings of the same nature could be heard and everyone searched the lake for any sign of the Gryffindor champion.

Then, suddenly, the water broke and _three_ heads appeared bobbing on the water. Daisy quickly recognised the ginger and raven haired ones, but had trouble with the third. That was, however, before she heard a voice cry out in French and saw Fleur Delacour sprint towards the water. She had discarded her blanket and instead pulled the third head – which Daisy only now recognised as belonging to a little girl – into a firm hug. Judging from their similar hair and overall willowy form, she could only guess them to be sisters.

With all champions and hostages back on the shore, points had to be announced and it was at last decided that although Harry had been the last to return, his choice to not leave the little girl behind had to be rewarded. And so it was that he was rewarded 45 points, tying him for first place overall with Cedric.

The second task had come to an end and unconsciously, Daisy let out a sigh she hadn't even been aware of holding. Her friends were safe – for now.


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: Hello everyone! I worked my ass off to get this chapter out today as I'm quite busy with school and work and with getting ready for my birthday party this evening. In any case, I hope you will enjoy it and don't forget to review and make your author happy! (:**

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Chapter 31

Eight o'clock the next morning found Daisy standing next to the entrance to the Kitchens, patiently waiting for her Hufflepuff friend to join her for breakfast. She had barely slept at all that night, the festivities in her own Common Room lasting well into the night, and she was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to return to her bed. On top of that, she was eager to get some food in her stomach and had a headache to say Sir to.

All right, so perhaps she was not waiting as patiently as was said before, but she was waiting nonetheless. In her own mind, Daisy thought she deserved a medal for that.

It was a miracle she was there at all, she continued to muse, for if it were not for Hermione repeatedly yelling her name and shaking her, she would probably still be in bed. Rationally, she knew she should be grateful to the brunette, but at the moment couldn't find it in herself to do anything rationally.

Before Daisy got the time to convince herself of returning to bed completely, a group of Hufflepuffs passed her, but not before each giving her a condemnatory glance. Ever since the start of the Tournament – and Harry's enrolment in said tournament – it had become a regularity for the other Houses and schools to look upon Harry and his friends with disapproval. Like it was her fault.

'Hello?' Looking up, she noticed the last member of the group had stopped in front of her, his friends all looking at him as if he had grown two heads. Daisy wondered why he, of all of them, would take the time to talk to her.

'Uhm, hi.'

'Go ahead, I'll meet you in the Great Hall,' he called over his shoulder, before leaning against the wall beside her.

After some last, reproachful looks in her direction, the group of Hufflepuffs disappeared from sight and Daisy finally felt like she could breathe again. Yes, it had been like this ever since October, but that didn't mean she liked it any more now than she did at the beginning.

'Are you waiting for someone?' He asked her, kindly.

'Yes, Amanda asked me to meet her here.'

'She was still in the Common Room when I left. Do you want me to go inside to tell her you're here?'

Daisy shook her head. 'I'm sure she'll be out in a minute.'

After this they lapsed into a comfortable silence and Daisy slowly began to wonder why he was still there. She had heard of his famed friendliness, but this was really just absurd. Didn't he have anything else to do; a dragon to defeat or a girlfriend to save?

'Congratulations,' she blurted out when suddenly realisation dawned on her. He was, after all, tied for first place with Harry after the second task. 'It seems I might have left my brain in bed after all this morning.'

This caused Cedric to laugh. 'And you, too. Harry is doing a lot better than anyone could have predicted.'

'Yes well, not everyone is as gallant about it as you are.'

The mirth disappeared from his eyes and he gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. 'Harry deserved those points. And despite what everyone is saying, I believe him when he says he didn't put his name in the Goblet himself.'

Before she had the time to give him her thanks, the sound of footsteps on stone could be heard and seconds later, Amanda came to a stop beside her. 'I'm sorry, I couldn't find my..' She trailed off at this point, only now noticing the tall, handsome boy standing next to her friend. The change was noticeable; immediately she dropped her head down, her cheeks red and her eyes cast downwards. 'Good morning, Cedric.'

The champion obviously did not pick up on the drastic change in his fellow Hufflepuff, for he returned her greeting in a lively tone, before leaving them to themselves.

Amanda, she noted with interest, did not look up from her feet until the last scrap of his cloak had disappeared around the corner. She was definitely going to hear all about this.

* * *

Prodding her chicken curry, Daisy couldn't help but be glad that the day was over _finally_. Despite not having to pay a lot of attention during most practical courses, school days at Hogwarts were exhausting and the weekends couldn't come fast enough. The weekend was, however, still far away.

And even tonight, though she wanted nothing more than to return to her bed immediately, would be packed with school. An unfinished Potions essay was tucked away in her bag, along with the book for Transfiguration which she was still supposed to read fifty pages for. Fortunately, she had managed to rope Amanda and Stojan into doing homework with her, so at least she would have some entertainment tonight. But even after all the school work was done, she would not be able to go to bed quite yet.

That morning Daisy had received a letter from Kevin, one of the guys she'd played Quidditch with. He'd asked her how she was doing, if she had not had any permanent damage from her fall and whether she was still declining his offer for lessons. She had penned back a reply during a rather dull hour of Transfiguration. She still had to post the letter, however, and that would be a problem all on its own.

Popping the last piece of chicken into her mouth, Daisy jumped of her bench and made her way out of the Great Hall. Before she even had time to swallow the rather large piece, both the Hufflepuff and the Durmstrang joined her and together they began the slow trek towards the library.

It was two corridors away from their destination when they heard voices. Coming to a sudden stop, all three students gave each other a questioning look, before Daisy decided to find out what was going on.

Stepping closer the corner, she muffled her breath underneath her hand before she peered around it.

With his tattered clothing and overall shabby appearance, it wasn't hard to identify the larger person as being professor Moody. The person standing behind him, however, was more difficult to recognise. That was, however, until she heard the professor's next words.

'Your father would be so disappointed in you, Draco.'

Her eyes widened at this, now recognising the mob of platinum blond hair and his sharp, pale features. 'It's Malfoy,' she whispered frantically back to her friends. 'He seems to be in some sort of trouble.'

'So?'

Turning back at the Bulgarian, Daisy couldn't help but frown. 'We have to help him.'

'Why?' It was now the female who posed the question, apparently just as sceptical as to why they would care about Malfoy.

And that was the question. Why would she help Malfoy? For the most part, he was a pain in her arse with his pestering and his insults. Then there was the not so small issue of him being the arch nemesis of every one of her friends. And yet, despite all that, she still wanted to help him. Perhaps there was some truth to Kevin's worry of there being permanent damage, after all.. 'I just have to.'

Without waiting for an answer, she steeled her courage and rounded the corridor. 'Malfoy!' She called out and both males turned her way. 'Oh, good evening professor. I hope I'm not interrupting something but professor Snape required Mr. Malfoy's immediate presence.'

He stared at her for a good long moment, then took a step back from the Slytherin. 'And what would professor Snape need Mr. Malfoy's presence for so late in the evening, might I ask?'

A smile threatened to creep its way onto her face, but Daisy managed to somehow keep it straight for a moment longer. 'Something about Quidditch I believe, though apart from that I wouldn't pretend to know. I was taught not to pry into other people's business, professor.'

The professor's eyes narrowed on her after her last words and it was clear that he had understood her poorly disguised insult.

Grabbing hold of the Slytherin's arm – as he had still not moved – she began dragging him away, but not before throwing a cheery "Good evening, professor" over her shoulder.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: Hello everyone! I hope you've all had a good week and I wish you a nice weekend! Big thank you to _MadderThanAHatter2_ and _sakurapetal0192_ (_I'm glad you like her character and that she makes you smile! (:_ ) for reviewing, I love you guys! Now, enjoy the chapter and don't forget to tell me what you think!**

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Chapter 32

As they rounded the corner, Daisy was surprised to find her friends still waiting for her, quite frankly having forgotten all about them in the heat of the moment. Without wasting a second, Malfoy yanked his arm free from her grasp and took a large step away.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the four students and Daisy realised that they were all waiting. Waiting for _her_ to do something.

Clearing her throat, she shuffled rather awkwardly with her feet as she thought of something that she could say. As always, she had acted before thinking, leaving her in a rather strange situation. 'So..' she started, desperate to break the deafening silence. 'That was a job well done, if I may say so myself.'

No one responded to her rather poor attempt at lightening the mood, instead choosing to stare at something – or someone. Amanda had apparently chosen this moment to study her black flats, looking at them as if they were some difficult rune sentence instead of the same pair of shoes she wore every day. Malfoy was staring at the wall behind her, a practiced look of disinterest on his face. She could practically hear his thoughts just by looking at him: "Wat am I still doing here?". Then there was Stojan who was, once again, just glaring daggers at the Slytherin. She decided to pretend not to notice.

'Why don't you guys go to the library and start without me?' This seemed to catch their attention, for both Amanda and Stojan suddenly fixed their eyes upon her, a question clearly burning behind it. 'I'll be there in a minute, there's just something I've got to do first.'

'Are you sure?'

Daisy just nodded.

Amanda's eyes flickered back between Daisy and Malfoy for a moment, then she nodded as well. 'We'll see you there, then.'

When the sound of their footsteps had died out, she turned to find that Malfoy had also started to move away. 'Where do you think you're going?'

He didn't stop, nor did he look around. But then came his low, rather annoyed response. 'As far away from you as possible.'

Hurrying after him, she quickly pulled him to a stop. 'When I said I've got to do something, I meant _we_'ve got to do something.'

'Why?'

'Because I can't do it alone and you owe me for saving you back there.'

'I think any debt I would have to you would be repaid by the countless of times _I_ saved _your_ arse,' he countered, pulling up a white eyebrow as he did. 'Besides, you are the one owing _me_ a favour.'

'Oh stop whining and come with me already.'

And he did, strangely enough. For a couple of minutes, they roamed the hallways wordlessly, the sound of their footsteps the only thing to be heard. He did not ask where they were going, nor what he was supposed to help her with. And she didn't tell.

When they had almost reached their destination, she turned to him. 'You're still allowed to thank me for helping you back there, you know?'

'I know.'

Daisy rolled her eyes as she ascended the final staircase, deciding that his stubbornness was boundless – matched perhaps only by that of herself. She pulled her cloak a little closer around her as the cold evening air brushed against the naked skin of her neck. Although spring was almost upon them, the nights were still to become warmer.

As they entered the Owlery, Daisy made her way around the room rather uncomfortably, sidestepping and shrieking every time she came too close to one of the large birds. When she had at last found a rather safe spot, she stopped and – with a quick vanishing spell – charmed the bird droppings from the floor. Satisfied with her work, she sat down.

Malfoy had followed her inside almost hesitantly, but had quickly caught on to why she needed his help. She had heard him snort at one of her shrieks, but he had said nothing.

'So you need help with posting a letter?' He questioned, mockingly.

For just this once, she decided to ignore the obvious insult, if only because she actually did need him to help her. 'Yes. That's not so bad isn't it?'

He made a noncommittal sound, but held out his hand nonetheless.

As he moved to catch one of the birds, Daisy furrowed her eyebrows as she remembered some of the information she had recently acquired and all the questions it had brought into life. Staring a little longer, she decided that this might be as good a moment as any other to ask him, seeing as that they were alone and unlikely to be disturbed. 'Malfoy?'

He hummed, not turning away from the large barn owl that sat in front of him. When she did not immediately continue, he threw a rather annoyed look over his shoulder. 'What is it?'

Despite his annoyance, she hesitated for a moment longer. No matter how she would phrase it, her question was bound to be received poorly. 'Your father..' She noticed his form had gone rigid at those two words 'He was a follower of Voldem.. I'm sorry; You-Know-Who, wasn't he?'

A moment passed before his blond head moved up and down once and she suddenly noticed how the room seemed to have grown silent around them, as if even the owls were holding their breaths.

'Do you think he knew? Do you think You-Know-Who knew about the Conductor?'

Another long silence stretched between them and when at last Malfoy turned to look at her, his expression was one of conflict. 'I know he did: he was the one giving the order.'

Daisy only nodded in response and stared down into her lap. She pushed her shaking hands underneath her in an attempt to steady them, but knew it was no use. If You-Know-Who knew about the Conductor and had been the one to order her mother's murder, then how safe was she? Although he posed no threat at the moment, if Harry was to believed they had not seen the last of the Dark Lord yet, meaning that the safety of her secret was only temporal.

'Who told you of my father?'

Looking up from her lap, she found the barn owl had already flown off with her letter and that Malfoy was leaning against one of the crumbled arches. He looked strangely vulnerable and, indeed, almost normal, in that moment and she found that without the permanent scowl and sharp tongue, she could see why girls would fancy him. Shaking those thoughts from her head, she shrugged her shoulders. 'Stojan told me.'

And back was the scowl. 'Of course he did,' he spat. And the sharp tongue. 'You two are rather comfortable around each other, aren't you?'

Daisy pulled up an eyebrow, but didn't get the chance to reply.

'Perhaps he failed to mention that his family played no insignificant part in the cleansing of the magical race in Bulgaria?'

'Cleansing?'

'The killing and torturing of Muggleborns.'

She felt sick to her stomach at the idea and wanted him to stop, but apparently he wasn't done yet.

'Perhaps he also failed to mention that his grandfather was one of Grindelwald's loyalist followers? That at his command he had slain thousands of men, women and children. That he tortured even more.'

'Stojan is not his family,' she managed to get in and in his silence, she stood. Taking a step closer to him, her face held high in defiance, she repeated her words. 'Stojan is _not _his family.'

'Then why am I?'


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: Hello everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of the Conductor. 33 Already, we're going so fast! Big thank you to _JustAFangirl _for her review. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there was no kissing involved. But maybe better luck in the future? (; Anyway, enjoy!**

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Chapter 33

'You're uncharacteristically silent,' Hermione noted later that evening, lifting her eyes from the pages of the large book in her lap.

'It's nothing.'

The brunette quirked one of her eyebrows and put her book aside for a moment. 'It must be something truly horrible for you to say that. Say, weren't you going to the library with Amanda and that Bulgarian boy?'

'Stojan,' she automatically provided, then sighed. 'I went but I just couldn't concentrate.'

'That doesn't per chance happen to have anything to do with a certain boy whose name you so readily provided?'

'It does – but not in the way that you think.' Daisy looked at her hands, trying to put her feelings into words. 'Today I learned some rather disconcerting news about his family's involvement in the murdering and torturing of Muggleborns in Bulgaria..'

'And now you can't look at him the same way anymore?'

'No, that's the thing: I do. I do, because I know that he's not his family.

Hermione now looked positively confused 'Then what's the problem?'

'It's well.. you wouldn't understand.'

The brunette simply nodded hesitantly 'If you say so', then picked up her book again and opened it on her lap. She had just found her way back to the place she'd let off when she added, as an afterthought: 'I think whether or not we judge a book by its cover also depends on how much its contents seem to match that cover on first sight.'

* * *

Despite Hermione's vague, but no doubt well-meant advice, Daisy had not managed to get her head straight. Sure, she knew that – no matter how much it pained her to admit it – Malfoy was right and that it really wasn't fair of her to treat him different than she would Stojan. Then again, Hermione (although unknowingly) had made a point as well: the way she treated Malfoy was not just a result of what she knew of his family but also of his own behaviour. Had he acted but a little less like an twat, had he been but a little friendlier to her and her friends, they might have actually gotten past the point of well.. whatever they were now. Given their latest argument out in the Owlery, Daisy didn't even know if they could even still be called reluctant allies.

A week after that night, Hermione needed _her_ support in a boy matter, though a completely different one. An article had appeared in the Witch Weekly about a supposed love triangle between Hermione, the Bulgarian Quidditch star and Durmstrang champion Viktor Krum, and none other than Harry. It was simply preposterous and everyone who knew the Golden Trio only a little was aware of that. Unfortunately, however, that still left a large part of the school believing – or at least partially believing – the piece.

Especially Hermione, who was now openly gossiped about, was the victim of this. Although most of the Gryffindors supported her, that still left the rest of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbattons to think she was a gold digger. Even Viktor himself, who Daisy did not think to be overly stupid, had been brought to doubts.

'I'm sure it will be better tomorrow,' Daisy tried to comfort the brunette at dinner after a long day of whispering, rumours and glares. Given the many stares that were still directed at their group, though, she thought that was rather doubtful. 'Everyone knows you're not out for fame and attention, Hermione, even those who are making fun of you.' With that, she directed a glare at the Slytherin table.

Harry nodded 'Daisy's right. Just try not to worry about it too much.'

'Try not to worry about it too much?' The brunette lay her fork down and, knowing that this was one the of the moments that made her fear Hermione, Daisy did the same. 'That's easy for you to say, Harry James Potter! You are not the one that was being made fun of in class. You are not the one everyone is giving filthy looks as if _you _have done something wrong.' Pushing her plate away from her, she stood resolutely from the bench and left without another word.

They all stared after her as she disappeared through the large doors, uncomfortably aware of how all the others in the room seemed to have been watching as well. A pregnant silence fell over the remaining trio, all of them aware that Hermione had made a point.

'I should go check on her.. See if she's all right.' And with those words, she fled the Great Hall as well.

Once out in the empty hallway, Daisy took a moment to recollect herself and determine her next course. Given how upset she'd been, it was unlikely that the brunette would have made straight for the Gryffindor Tower. The library, too, seemed – for once – like an unlikely option, as it would mean that she'd have to speak to madame Pince. No, if she had to guess, Hermione would want to be somewhere alone, with no chance of being disturbed. And that left only one place.

When she'd climbed the stairs to the first floor, it was only a short walk to the unused lavatory. Stopping in front of the closed door, Daisy steeled herself for more screaming before she turned the knob.

Inside, the bathroom seemed to be vacated. It was a large, empty room with smashed mirrors and defect toilets and Daisy shuddered as she remembered one of the tales Harry and Ron had told her about their many adventures. Surely a gigantic snake had not really fit into this room, had it?

Before she could think more on the subject, the pearly white, translucent figure of a young girl flew up from inside one of the stalls and came to float right in front of her. With her round glasses, acne skin and Hogwarts costume, this had to be..

'Oh you should see her,' the ghost practically gushed, then suddenly seemed to realise that she did not know the person in front of her. 'Where's Harry?'

'Harry?'

'Yes Harry! He's always with her, along with the red headed boy,' she gestured vaguely in the direction of the toilet stalls. 'In fact, I just saw him the other day when he was taking a bath in the Prefect's Bathroom with his egg, he was..-'

'That's great, Myrtle,' she interrupted the ghost quickly 'But he's not here.'

'Not here?'

'No, he's still at dinner.. with Ron.'

'And who are _you_?!'

'A friend of Harry and Hermione's – _just_ a friend.. Look, Myrtle, I really need to get going,' she nodded towards the stalls, hoping the ghost would catch the hint.

'Good luck with that,' she snickered, apparently still amused by the other girl's misery, and without another word, dove into one of the empty stalls' toilet.

For a second she just stood there, waiting for the ghost to reappear. When she didn't, Daisy gathered herself and walked up to the only closed stall door. With her hand outstretched to the knob, she paused. What was proper conduct in such a situation? Should she knock? 'Eh.. Hermione?' Silence. 'Hermione, is that you?'

Once again her question received no answer, but a soft sob could be heard from the other side of the door. Softly, so as to not startle the other girl, she pushed the wooden door open. The sight that met her eyes was indeed not pretty; her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks red and blotched. Her frizzy hair was a mess and her uniform was creased. Daisy pulled the door open a little further, then she sat down on the wet ground in front of the older girl. 'Are you all right?'

Hermione looked up from her hands and, despite her tears and sobs, managed to mutter an "I'm fine".

Daisy smiled softly while shaking her head. 'If this is fine then I wonder what the Hermione is that I'm used to seeing.' Reaching out her hand, she wiped some of the tears from the brunette's face. 'I know that it's not fun to be gawked at and gossiped about – believe me, being in a supposed relationship with Draco Malfoy teaches you that,' they both laughed at that 'But Harry is right. At the moment, all you can do is wait for it to pass and in the meanwhile, try not to let it bother you too much. And besides, I know that none of that nonsense that Skeeter woman wrote is true, as do Harry and Ron, and Viktor. Everyone who knows you also knows that you would never do any of those things and those people are the only ones you should concern yourself with. So what if some idiotic, brainless girls from Slytherin think you have both Viktor Krum and Harry fawning over you. The only reason they care is because they're jealous.' She smiled at this, wiping the last few remaining tears from her face. 'And they have all reason to be.'

'That's rubbish,' Hermione snorted, though she smiled softly.

'Is it? Because the way I'm seeing it you have got the most wanted guy in Europe walking after you like a lost puppy, have gotten a wonderful male friend that you happen to be close with. But more importantly: you are fierce and loyal, courageous and more than a little scary at times. You are the smartest person I've ever met and are beautiful inside and out. Don't let some silly girls' words get you down.'

And before she knew it, she was engulfed in a hug. When she'd gotten over the first shock, she extended her arms and wrapped them around the sad brunette.

For a couple of minutes they just sat like this, neither of them saying a word. Then, at last, Hermione broke away, wiping the last moisture from her face with the sleeve of her robe. 'You should go back, I'm sure they'll be missing you. I will be there in a minute.'

'Are you certain?'

'Positive,' She now smiled, the last traces of her misery disappearing from sight. 'I'm just going to make myself look... well, less as if I have just cried.'

Daisy chuckled, then stood from the cold ground. Her legs felt sore from sitting in an uncomfortable position for so long and it felt like some of the water had seeped through her pants and into her underwear. As she looked down at her friend however, she found that she cared little about it. 'I'll see you in a minute, then.'

Stepping out of the toilet stall, she noticed Myrtle floating above one of the toilets across from her. Had she been there the entire time? To be honest, it didn't really matter, and so Daisy moved towards the door without a word to the ghost. She was about to twist the knob when Myrtle spoke.

'There's a boy waiting for you.'

Looking over her shoulder, she shot her a questioning glance.

'He's been there ever since you first came in. Said he needed to talk to you and I told him to _leav_e. It's a girl's lavatory after all.'

Daisy just nodded, then moved to open the door. As she stepped into the empty hallway, she was about to question the ghost's sanity when she was pulled against the wall roughly. 'What ar..-'

'You owe me a favour.'


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: Hello dearies. First of all my apologies for not updating yesterday. My weekend is filled with deadlines from all sorts of things and I was kind of busy. A big thank you to _sanna11 _and _JustAFangirl_ for reviewing, you guys are amazing and I love you! Now, to the Guest reviewer who reviewed chapter 4. I'm really sorry to find that you reviewed anonymously, because there's no way I can reach you now. Anyways, what I would have wanted to tell you is that I think you misunderstood. She was not with Harry in Ron in Potions Class in that chapter, she just told them what happened. Also, the issue of her parents is addressed extensively in later chapters. Lastly, I figured we could all imagine her getting a wand and so I didn't write it but figured everyone would understand that it happened somewhere in 'off screen time'. I sincerely hope this will reach you! To all the rest, enjoy reading and don't forget to review!**

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Chapter 34

When he said that she owed him a favour, a million things – and more – had flashed through her mind. Exciting, fun, even dangerous things. What she hadn't expected, however, was to be roped up in playing hide and seek around the Hogwarts castle at night with Draco Malfoy

'I can't believe I agreed to this..'

'Shut up.'

'No honestly. I know I've said it before, but it still baffles me how I could be so glaringly stupid as to agree to this.'

'I said: shut up.'

'Remind me again why I'm out in the middle of the night, when I could have been doing my long overdue Care of Magical Creatures homework.'

'Please,' he drawled, all the while keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings, 'we both know you wouldn't have studied. And to answer your question: you didn't have a choice. You owed me, remember? Now shut your mouth or we'll get caught even before we make it to Snape's office.'

That was their destination. Or well, it was Malfoy's. She was just to stand watch and alert him if a teacher or Filch would be on their trail. And the worst part was; she did not even know what she was risking expulsion for.

'So hypothetically, what am I to do if one of the patrol catches me?'

'You tell them exactly why you're there: because you were trying to sneak into Snape's office.'

'WHAT?!' She shrieked and dug her heels into the ground. For a moment, she forgot all about their predicament.. about how she was supposed to stay quiet. Immediately Malfoy turned to her, eyes glaring daggers and he shushed her loudly. Remembering her surroundings then, Daisy breathed in deeply before she continued in a lower, but nevertheless angry, voice. 'So I'm to take the fall for your stupid cause?'

'Yes, now shut up. Honestly, I don't particularly enjoy being stuck with you and the only reason I picked you to come instead of Crabbe or Goyle is because I figured you would have at least something in that head of yours – no matter how little that something might be. Now, however, I'm starting to rather doubt it.'

'My head is not empty!' She gasped, again rather loudly.

He turned away, ready to start moving again, however not before muttering: 'Now would be an excellent time to start proving it.'

For the next five minutes, they walked in silence, Malfoy stopping at every corner to cautiously peek around it and her just trailing behind him. At least, she thought in a desperate attempt to raise her spirits, she would owe the git nothing after this. Her debt would be repaid and there would be no favour hanging above her head. Who knew, perhaps she could even spend the rest of her year in peace. He might even leave her alone. Now that, that would be fantastic.

At last they came to a stop in front of the closed door of Snape's office. They listened for a moment for any sounds coming from inside, then they – or rather: Malfoy – unlocked the door and they both slipped inside.

As they were both regaining their breath, Daisy took a moment to study the office. She had never been there before and, in that moment, she rather wished she would have never gone there now. All around her, the shelves were filled with glass jars containing slimy, gross things that she had no desire to identify. The overall atmosphere was… unwelcoming.

She had not even noticed Malfoy move towards another door set in the opposite wall until he once again muttered the incantation of a unlocking spell on the door. Quickly following after him, she thought to herself that this must be what they came for. Inside, shelves upon shelves stood filled to the brim with ingredients ranging from eye of newt to unicorn horns. Whatever Malfoy needed, it was bound to be inside.

He slipped through the crack, but not before giving her a piercing look. 'Go stand watch. If you hear someone… well, just fix it.'

Despite her annoyance with him, she nodded and moved towards the door. She looked over her shoulder, noticing Malfoy had closed the door of the potion cupboard behind him. Looking back at the door in front of her, she decided she would just stay inside of the office. Malfoy might have wanted her to stand in the corridor, but Daisy didn't quite fancy being easy bait. And so she pulled the door to a crack, opening it just enough so she could get a clear view of the bend in the corridor.

And this is how she stood. For fifteen minutes. And nothing happened. Daisy waited for another five minutes and then, after throwing another glance through the crack in the door, she moved further into the room. 'Oi, Malfoy, have you fallen asleep or something?'

'Piss off, McCalman, go guard the door.'

Daisy huffed indignantly and pulled the door to the cabinet open. She didn't quite enjoy talking to a door. 'Guard the door? I've been guarding the door for twenty bloody minutes and nothing happened. I'm tired and bored and I really just want to go to bed.' She pushed the door open further and stepped inside. 'And you appear to be taking your jolly time in searching, so I'm going to help you.'

'I didn't ask for help, I asked for you to…-'

'Frankly, Malfoy, I don't care what you asked for.' She closed the door firmly behind her. 'So what are we looking for, exactly?'

He stayed silent for a moment, probably debating whether or not he was just going to kick her out again, but then he sighed 'Ashwinder eggs and powdered moonstone.'

'Ashwinder eggs and powdered moonstone?' She repeated, printing the names into her memory.

'I already found the moonstone, but only an empty jar of the eggs. But knowing Snape, he must have more than one jar of the things.'

Daisy nodded in agreement – although of course he wouldn't see with his back turned to her – and she started her search as well. For another ten minutes, neither of them spoke a word, both engrossed in their work – and Daisy desperately hoping that if they hurried up, she would be able to get some sleep in that night. Unfortunately however, they had little luck.

She was about to complain again when a voice broke the silence.

'Who's there? Students out of bed!' Filch screeched.

Looking up from their work, they both stared at each other wide eyed and sudden realisation hit Daisy: she had left the door to professor Snape's office open. Before she had even time to recover from this one, another realisation hit her: If he was to come into Snape's office – which she was sure he was – then his first act would be to see if the cupboard was still locked. And if he would do that, he would find them inside.

Outside of the cupboard, the sound of a door opening could be heard and footsteps entered the office. Before panic could grip her heart, Daisy whipped out her wand and stepped up to the door. Tapping it on the doorknob, she muttered 'Colloportis.'

An odd, squelching noise could be heard and Daisy gasped unconsciously, knowing that this could very well be the end of their little adventure – and her school career.

The footsteps outside the cupboard were becoming louder, meaning that the owner was getting closer to their hiding space. Another gasp was on her lips when a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled flush against a large, warm body. And that's how they stood there for five minutes, waiting for Filch to retreat.

Daisy would never admit to it – and certainly not out loud – but it felt almost nice. His body was warm against hers, making her forget that she was in some cold, damp cupboard in the dungeons and it made her feel surprisingly safe. He smelt faintly of green apples, but then there was something else that she couldn't quite describe. Something spicy, something undoubtedly masculine. She took another discreet sniff, burning the smell in her memory. She wanted to snuggle closer to that body, wanted to..-'

'He's gone. You can stop whimpering now.' And she was back to earth.

'I wasn't.. whimpering,' she snarled, pulling away from him.

She watched as he cocked up an eyebrow, then a smirk drew upon his lips. 'Would you prefer I call it moaning then?'

'I was _suffocating_,' she spat, desperate to hide the blush that was creeping up her face 'So next time we're in such a situation – and God forbid that ever happening – it would be nice to actually get some air!'

Malfoy didn't say anything in response. That self-assured, arrogant bastard. Instead, he just went back to searching shelves as he had done before the close encounter with Filch, as if nothing had happened. And nothing _has_ happened, Daisy reminded herself venomously.

As she took a step back to return to her own shelve, she bumped her head into the wood. A jar that had been standing on the edge rolled off and, in a combination of good reflexes and luck, Daisy caught the glass jar in mid-air. Turning it over in her hand, she noticed the label. Ashwinder eggs. Wouldn't you know.


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: Hello everyone and happy holidays! I am truly sorry for not uploading any sooner but studying for exams was filling up every waking moment - and haunting my dreams at night. Any case, I will try to get another chapter up this weekend, but I can't promise anything. A big thank you to _dsi user_, your reviews Always make me happy! Enjoy the chapter!**

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Chapter 35

When Hermione had thought that the rumours were far from over.. well, she had been right unfortunately. In fact, in hindsight the worst had been yet to come.

For the entirety of the weekend and the next week, Hermione had been getting filthy looks and angry letters. One of the authors had even gone as far as to hex her letter, causing it to spill puss once it opened. She had helped to clear the mess up, of course, but between Hermione and her, Daisy was glad she was not getting Howlers for breakfast.

Of course Hogwarts had been shocked by her supposed relationship with Draco Malfoy. The international – or national, even – wizarding community could really care less, however, about who the Slytherin associated with, even if it was with a Gryffindor. Apart from that, Daisy had not been targeted with the same hate that Hermione was currently receiving, instead the dismay had been expressed through disapproving looks and whispered remarks behind her back. A much more pleasant way, she now found out.

'Do you want to give it a try?' Amanda asked her, after another unsuccessful attempt at trying to change the guinea fowl on their desk into a guinea pig. They had been at the assignment for over twenty minutes and so far, only Hermione – even despite her foul mood – had managed to give the bird a fur coat. The remainder of the class had not even achieved that much. And Amanda was no exception to this: if one were to look in the right light from the right angle, you might perceive a slight change of colour in the feathers of the animal. If one were just lying with their head on the desk, trying desperately not to fall asleep like Daisy was, you would only notice that the bird, too, seemed to be getting fed up with the assignment.

Daisy lifted her head from the table and slid her arms beneath it to get in a more comfortable position. 'Not really, no.'

It was at this moment that the door to the Transfiguration classroom burst open and a young boy came to a stop in front of the desk. He bend over forward, his hands resting on his knees, while his breath came out in loud gasps.

Like the rest of the class, this small interruption was enough to draw Daisy's attention to the front of the classroom. She even went as far as to lift herself up from her desk, to get a better view of the young student. He was awfully small, with a curly patch of sandy hair on his head and a thin, almost mouse-like face. Although she did not know his name, he looked familiar.

'Professor,' he gasped out, in between breaths, his face bead red.

'Calm down, Mr. Ellis. I'm sure whatever has you running into the middle of my class can best be told without your panting.'

Some of the students laughed, but were quickly silenced by one glare from the stern professor.

'Yes, professor,' the boy said, still panting. Then he took a deep breath. 'Professor Flitwick asked me to get you, professor. There was.. well, there was an accident.'

The older woman pulled up an eyebrow, but said nothing, clearly wanting him to explain further.

'We were practicing the Fire-Making Spell in class when it happened. Professor Flitwick said I should get you, said he would bring him to the Hospital Wing, but that..-'

'_Wh__at_ happened, Mr. Ellis?'

The boy seemed to stop for a moment, as if he himself thought it pretty logical what had happened – which it was, Daisy supposed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what could go wrong with a Fire-Making Spell. Then, he sighed. 'One of the students couldn't control it. The desk caught fire.'

'Is anyone hurt?'

'Well,' the boy said, scratching his neck as if he did not quite know how to put it into words. 'Professor Flitwick immediately came over to help, of course, but the student was so shocked that he accidentally set the professor's beard on fire as well. Burnt like mad, it did.'

'And the boy?'

'He's mostly fine as well, professor. He has some minor burns on his wand arm, but he's mostly just shaken from what happened. That's why the professor asked me to get you, said the boy would need some support from his Head of House.'

At the same time that realization dawned on the face of the Transfiguration professor, a whispered "Oh no" sounded from beside Daisy. 'Who is the student in question?'

'Bryan Ackerly, professor.'

'I was already afraid so,' she muttered, then turned back to the class. 'You will be dismissed for today. I expect you to not roam the corridors and behave. If I hear otherwise, points will be taken and detention dealt!'

As soon as the professor had left the class, chaos erupted. For most of them, Transfiguration had been their last class, meaning that they now had a good forty minutes of freedom before dinner and, subsequently, homework. Within a minute – and almost three times as fast as when they would simply have to go to the next class – all of the students had their bags packed and were filing out of the classroom. Most of the students then continued on in the direction of the Great Hall, while some – Hermione of course among them – made for the staircases in the direction of the Library.

Amanda was already halfway through the corridor when she noticed that her Gryffindor friend was still stood in front of the classroom. 'Aren't you coming to the Great Hall?'

Daisy sighed. 'I just feel like it would be a waste of our extra free time by just waiting for dinner to come by..'

'You know we're not supposed to wander the corridors,' the Hufflepuff now said, warily, as if she was already afraid of what her friend was suggesting. 'McGonagall just said she would put those who did in detention.'

'That's just those who misbehave! Besides, it's not wandering if we have a direction.'

'We have? I mean, a direction.'

'I'll think something up as we go,' the Gryffindor simply said, already turning away.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found the two girls on the third floor, in what had apparently been a forbidden corridor in Amanda's first year. There was little to see now, however, just a lot of cobwebs and dust. With Daisy's curiosity sated, they had pulled the door closed behind them, ready to go to the Great Hall after all – much to the Hufflepuff's relief.

'I just can't seem to get the hang of it,' Amanda sulked, shaking her head. 'I have practiced a lot of the spells at night by myself, even going as far as to take tutoring from one of the older students, but it's just no good. I'll never pass Transfiguration!'

'I'm not surprised,' a voice cut in, before Daisy even had the chance to offer her friend some words of comfort.

They both turned around, coming face to face with a group of Slytherins. Among them, Daisy spotted Malfoy and the two bodyguard-like boys that he usually paraded around with. At their front stood who Daisy assumed had been the one speaking up: a slender, pug-faced girl with dark hair. Pansy Parkinson.

'I mean, with a mother like yours, something could hardly be expected from you.'

Amanda said nothing, but by the look on her face, it was clear that the Slytherin's word had struck a chord.

'How long ago was it again that she left your father for that Muggle? Six years, or is it seven already?' The girl smiled wickedly, clearly aware that her words were having their desired effect. 'Must have been hard for your father raising two children by himself when his wife ran off into the Muggle world. Tell me, has she still not contacted you? Why,' she snorted, 'I can hardly blame her. What with two…-'

'That's enough, Parkinson.'

The ebony-haired girl lifted her eyes to Daisy, one plucked eyebrow pulled up. 'Excuse me?'

'I said; that's enough.' She repeated, taking a step forwards and coming face to face with the Slytherin.

Daisy had to give the girl some credit here, for if she was surprised or intimidated by her closeness, Parkinson never showed it. Instead, she righted her back and fixed the Gryffindor with the foulest glare she could muster – one that even rivalled Malfoy's. 'I don't think I asked for your opinion, McCalman. Besides, from the things I hear, you already have trouble staying out of detention without my help. So step aside.'

'Perhaps you should put less credit in what you hear,' she spoke through gritted teeth. 'If I recall correctly, you also believed I had a relationship with Draco Malfoy. The ridiculousness of that alone says a great deal about your sources, and even more about your own intelligence. Then again,' she continued, clearly enjoying the increasingly outraged look on the other girl. 'If you are any indication for the female Slytherin population, I wouldn't blame him for taking a girlfriend from another House. Last I knew, Malfoy isn't into bestiality.'

In hindsight, it had been clear to Daisy that she had crossed the line. The red face, the shaking; both tell-tale signs of someone on the verge of blowing up. In that moment, however, Daisy didn't realise quite how insulted the Slytherin was until a wand was in her face. 'You think you're so pretty, huh? With your freckle face, carrot hair and your little-boy build.'

'Pansy,' a voice from somewhere behind the Slytherin warned, but the girl didn't pay it any attention.

'You think any boy would ask a skinny little nobody like you out?'

'Pansy, come on. This is not worth getting us in detention for,' the voice called again and looking past her, Daisy only now noticed it was Draco Malfoy. Curious that he should be the one defending her, even if it was to save his own skin.

'What I wouldn't do to..-'

'What is the meaning of this?!'

It was only as Daisy turned to face the Arithmancy professor that she noticed she, too, had gotten out her wand sometime during the confrontation. She knew the professor's next words before she even opened her mouth. Detention.


	36. Intermezzo

**AN: Hello everyone! This is not an actual chapter - both due to its size and content - but more of a short scene that wasn't actually necessary for the story progress, but that I wanted to include anyway. I hope you enjoy it and don't hesitate to let me know if you do. (; A big thank you to _dsi user_ for the review, you are fantastic!**

* * *

Intermezzo

'…often enough how _very_ disappointed I am in you, miss McCalman. Truly, I had expected you to know better!' McGonagall finally finished her very long and very undeserved rant.

Ever since she had been escorted to her Head of House's office by professor Vector ten minutes ago, Daisy had not been able to get a single word in. What with her history and record, professor McGonagall had immediately assumed the worst. Telling the Head of Gryffindor that she had never _wanted_ to fight had not even been one of her options.

A heavy silence, full of spoken and unspoken disappointment, fell over the room and Daisy realised that now she might finally defend herself. She was about to open her mouth when a knock sounded on the door and Bryan Ackerly entered the office.

His face turned a bright red at seeing another student already seated and he started stuttering something about being sorry and having to leave – and some more sorrys. Doing a quick scan, Daisy noticed that he sported some small bandages on his right forearm, indicating where the burn wounds were. Apart from that and a few odd spots on his head where his hair was shorter than the remainder, he looked no worse for wear.

'Yes, Mr. Ackerly?' The older woman spoke, successfully halting his ongoing stuttering.

'I w-was wondering, professor.. Well, I-I wanted to ask about the letter you'd send my Father about the a-accident..'

Professor McGonagall threw Daisy a quick glance, as if assessing the chance of her running off, and then followed Bryan Ackerly to the door. Before she stepped over the threshold, she threw another stern look to the girl still seated in one of the red, velvet chairs. 'I expect to find you here when I return, miss McCalman. I will be but a moment.'

As the door closed behind them, Daisy let out a sigh of relief. Although it was clear that they were not done yet, at least she had some time to build up her defense. Surely she wouldn't be able to deflect all punishment – fact remained that she had been about to duel, even if it was only in self-defense – but it would be nice to not be in detention for the remainder of her school career.

Glancing around her, she took notice of the office's interior for the first time. It was only a small room, fitted with a large fire in one of the walls. The window behind the desk looked out on the Training Grounds and the Quidditch Pitch, both of which were abandoned. Even if Quidditch would not have been canceled due to the Tournament, it would still be too early for Quidditch training. Most students were probably still at dinner, enjoying the roasted potatoes she had overheard some of the second years talking about earlier that day. Her stomach gave a painful lurch at the prospect and Daisy mentally cursed Pansy Parkinson for what must have been the hundredth time since she had entered McGonagall's office.

The door to the office burst open at that moment and, having had no warning at all, Daisy let out a shriek of surprise.

Two heads, both with a mop of fiery red hair on top of them, peaked around the door. At noticing her form in the velvet chair, a wide smile spread over their faces and the door opened further, allowing entrance to the two identical boys.

'George, you don't think..' The first of the two started, the smile on his face growing bigger still. It was a most frightening sight, a promise of no good.

'Oh yes, Fred, I think this is indeed..'

'_the_ Daisy McCalman,' both of them said theatrically and bowed deeply in front of her.

'It is an honor to finally meet you officially,' Fred said – or was it George?

Daisy raised an eyebrow, though she couldn't help but smile back at them. Of course she knew who they were – even if she couldn't tell them apart. Fred and George Weasley were legends in their own right, causing mischief wherever they went. Rumour had it that even Peeves respected them for that. Despite being in the same house as them, however, Daisy had never really spoken to them before.

'As am I,' she replied, 'Although I am not sure whether I should be worried.'

'Worried?'

'Nonsense!'

'Besides,' the first one continued, of who she was now quite certain that it was George. 'You're already in McGonagall's office, what else could happen?'

'Get expelled?'

'She's quite right there, Fred. Although even we haven't managed that – yet.'

Fred chuckled at this, almost as if he had no doubt that they would some day. 'Anyways, we heard some first years at dinner talk about a duel between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. You don't happen to know anything about that, do you?'

'It wasn't a duel,' Daisy shook her head, though finding herself unable to _not_ smile in the company of the two troublemaker twins. 'Parkinson probably would have enjoyed hexing me, though..'

Both of the boys chuckled at this and once again Daisy couldn't help but laugh along. After all, if she were to forget the punishment that was no doubt still hanging over her head, it was rather funny.

'I suppose we should congratulate you.' Fred said finally, when their laughter had subsided.

'Congratulate?'

'Apart from us, you must be the one costing Gryffindor the most points,' his brother continued.

'Well, that is without counting Harry of course.'

Daisy snorted at this 'The only difference is that he also actually earns them.'


	37. Chapter 36

**AN: Hello dearies! I'm a tad bit late, I know, but here it is nonetheless: chapter 36. A big thank you to _None Yet,_ the guest reviewer, for your very cute review! I'm glad you like the story so far. Enjoy this week's chapter!**

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Chapter 36

'Thanks a bloody lot again, Parkinson,' Daisy mumbled, as she moved on to the next trophy case. They had been there for two hours already, having to polish off every single trophy, medal and badge in the room. And let me tell you; that were quite a few.

Of course professor McGonagall had been mild on her. If she had wanted, she could have expelled Daisy for attempted violence. She hadn't however, even when she found the girl laughing her arse off with Fred and George Weasley when she'd come back into her office.

'This is all _your_ fault.'

Daisy snorted at that, but didn't deem it worthy of an answer. She loathed being in the same room with the annoying, bitchy Slytherin – constantly alternating between wanting to kill the Slytherin or herself – but knowing that she'd been put into detention as well made it all the more bearable. Apparently Snape possessed some sense of fairness, small as it may be, even though it was probably based solely on the fact that he was annoyed for being disturbed during dinner.

'Would the two of you shut up, already?' Draco Malfoy drawled from across the room, his voice laced with irritation.

Oh right, he was there, too. She had not been aware of it at the time – too occupied with the pug-faced girl that was pressing her wand in Daisy's face – but sometime during the confrontation he had gotten his wand out as well. Although it had probably been to help Parkinson hex her, Daisy was kind of glad for not being all alone with her. With self-control as poor as her own, that could have only led to one thing. Murder.

'But Drakie-poo,' Parkinson cooed – in a voice that made her ears bleed – and pouted. 'You know it's her fault, right? If she hadn't been about to hex me, I wouldn't have had to defend myself. I shouldn't have to do this cleaning, it's servant stuff!'

Daisy did not know what was more laughable: the nickname or the rather ridiculous account Parkinson made of the entire situation.

'It's bad enough that I'm in detention because of your pity fight, Parkinson. Now continue with those bloody trophies or I'll hex you myself.'

The Gryffindor turned back to her own case, then, desperate to hide the smile that was creeping up her face. Of course she knew that Malfoy was in no way taking her side on this, let alone defend her. But it felt good to not be on the receiving end of his wrath for once.

'But Drakie-poo,' the female Slytherin continued to whine, though she never got to finish her lament.

'What did I tell you about working in silence?' Filch suddenly cut in, stepping into the room with Mrs. Norris faithfully trailing behind him. None of them had seen the caretaker or his cat come in, as was his habit. 'A few hours hanging by your thumbs in the dungeon would do the trick, I tell you. Back in the days, you could hear them scream up to the second floor.' A strangely nostalgic look passed over his face and he smiled – or what was supposed to be a smile; in actuality it was more of a strange, strained lifting of the muscles in the corner of his mouth. All in all, it made for a pretty discomforting sight.

'You can't do that!' Parkinson said in her usual annoying tone, though the paleness of her face told her she wasn't all too sure of it.

Filch did not acknowledge her, instead spent another moment staring smilingly off into the distance, before he shook his head and all traces of good humour were gone. 'Peeves just flooded the toilets on the fifth floor. They need to be unclogged and the floor mopped. Come along, Miss Parkinson.'

'What? Why?'

'So you'll work in silence.'

'No, I'll be quiet. I promise!'

'Come along.'

The Slytherin gave a last, longing look at Malfoy – as if he was going to save her somehow – and then threw her sponge back into the bucket with an indignant huff. Without another word she stormed out of the trophy room.

Three seconds passed in silence in which they listened at the retreating footsteps. 'So…'

'Don't start it, McCalman.'

'No but..-'

'The only reason I got your back is because if she hexed you and you would somehow deflect it again, your secret would come out and I would be in trouble as well. That's it.'

'I was not going to say that,' she chuckled, smiling softly. 'Nor did I know you were trying to help me... _Drakie-poo_.'

'Don't call me that.'

'Parkinson can.'

He sighed deeply and turned to her, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Parkinson can't; she just does.'

'Well, but as your supposed girlfriend, don't you think I..-'

'No.'

'But..-'

'No.'

'Hey Draco,' she said, smiling at her next move 'Thank you.'

As she had hoped, this started off another screaming match; him defending his selfish reasons for having her back, her just riling him up further. This is how Filch found them ten minutes later, still yelling at one another and the sponges long forgotten in the bucket. It earned them an added hour of detention in complete silence and a deduction of 20 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. And as they both returned to work, they finally realised Daisy's slip-up.

* * *

When Daisy finally returned to the Gryffindor Common Room later that night, the skin on her fingers was pruned and her arms ached from all the scrubbing she had done. Ever since he'd come back, Filch had kept a constant eye on them, not trusting them to be alone anymore. It was all well, Daisy supposed, for she'd not had much time to put things in order as of yet.

Curiously, she spent very little fight analyzing the fight with Parkinson. The Slytherin had only hit her with easy insults, making it not nearly as frustrating as arguing with Malfoy could be. Daisy herself knew she was no beauty, with her plain features, strawberry blond hair and freckles, but she had long since accepted that. Therefore, the female Slytherin's insults had hardly ruffled any feathers.

Instead, she was more surprised by Malfoy's reaction to the entire situation. She remembered he had tried to stop Parkinson from fighting and had taken Daisy's side again in the trophy room. He had stated that it was purely for selfish reasons, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something else as well. What was perhaps more worrisome, was that a part of her wanted there to be.

She sighed as she walked into the round Common Room, immediately greeted by the warmth of the fire. She blamed all of this sudden awareness of his _maleness_ on that moment in the cabinet of the Potion's Master. If it hadn't been for that stupid moonstone and ashwinder eggs, she would be feeling none of this. And surely then she wouldn't have called him by his given name by accident.

'Where did you come from?'

Looking up from her thoughts, Daisy noticed a head of busy brown hair in one of the plush chairs in front of the hearth. She considered lying, but knew that she would get more scolding if the brunette were to find out. 'Detention.'

The sound of a book closing followed and Hermione turned around in her seat. 'Again?! Daisy you sh..-'

'I know,' she held up her hand in defense. 'But on my honour, this time it _really_ wasn't my fault.'

'Truly, sometimes I think you are worse than Harry and Ron combined.'

Daisy chuckled, not about to deny it. 'I'm going to bed.'

'I'll be there in a few minutes, I'm just going to finish this chapter.'

Daisy nodded and she was halfway to the staircase when she remembered something. 'Say, Hermione. You wouldn't happen to know any potions that are made with powdered moonstone and ashwinder eggs, do you?'

Five seconds passed in which Hermione thought, and Daisy could practically hear the gears in her head turning. When at last she answered, her reply was short and exactly everything that she hadn't hoped for.

'Amortentia.'

* * *

**AN: Sooooo did you expect that to happen? Also, I have a question for you guys. At the very beginning of this story, someone told me that they thought it a pity that Daisy was a Gryffindor. However, given her character I really couldn't imagine her being in any other House than Gryffindor. What are your thoughts? Would she fit in another House? And if so, which one and why?**


	38. Chapter 37

**AN: Hello everyone! I want to thank my dear reviewers for their response and I am glad you all thought Daisy was a Gryffindor by heart as well. So a big thank you to _that red head girl 14 _(I think he might a little as well, but do tell me what you think after this chapter), _none yet _(Drakey-poo might be yes (; ) and _ nom nom_! Enjoy the chapter and tell me what you think!**

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Chapter 37

Amortentia. The name had haunted, tormented, and mocked Daisy for the remainder of that week, following her even into her dream world. What on earth would Draco Malfoy need Amortentia for? Or rather; _who_ would he need it for?

It was no secret that the Slytherin had a way of making females go weak in the knees. Even Daisy, who hated him with an intensity that could light the fires in Hell, could not deny to herself that he was good-looking. Sharp but strong facial features, stormy grey eyes and silvery white hair that looked good no matter what – and then there was that subtle but intoxicating smell of green apples and spice. If he wasn't such a right prat, Daisy could easily imagine herself falling for him. _Thank God for not allowing that to happen!_

It didn't make sense, she had long since concluded. Malfoy had no need for Amortentia as most females at Hogwarts already entertained one erotic fantasy or another with him featuring in it. However, this also begged the question as to who he would need it for. What girl would be important enough to steal ingredients for from Snape's cupboard, important enough to make him go as far as to drug her into loving him?

Daisy ignored the familiar stab in her gut that followed, having noticed over the week that it usually followed her Malfoy and Amortentia centered ponderings. She had deduced that it was most likely her body's way of saying that she'd spent enough time thinking about the idiot. Not that it helped, of course.

'Daisy, your Butterbeer's going cold if you wait any longer.'

She looked up, somewhat dazed to find that they were still seated in the rowdy tavern of the Three Broomsticks Inn. They had spent the day in Hogsmeade and had decided to warm their cold limbs in the pub. Now, the Three Broomsticks itself wasn't really anything special – albeit a bit less shabby than the Leaky Cauldron perhaps – but the fire in the hearth was warm and the Butterbeer good. Or so she had been told. 'Sorry, I was just..'

'Lost in thought,' Amanda finished with a small smile. 'Yes, we know.'

'You tend to do that,' Stojan continued, his smile wider and his perfect white teeth showing.

'That does say something about the company I have, don't you think?'

A moment of silence passed before they all burst out into laughter together and Daisy hoisted her full Butterbeer into the air 'To friendship.'

'To friendship,' the other two echoed, clinking their half empty glasses against the Gryffindor's.

As Daisy took her first sip of Butterbeer, she couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. Or the one after that. 'This is fantastic!' She cried out and took another sip, allowing a lazy smile to creep up onto her lips 'I love magic.'

She noticed Stojan and Amanda exchange a rather humoured look, but didn't comment. Instead, she opted to finish her drink in the course of the next minute. 'I think I'm going to get another one. Anyone else?'

Her two friends shook their heads, both still nurturing their half-finished drinks between their chilled fingers.

They had sat down in a booth far from the bar, preferring the relative silence it offered over the rowdy area at the front of the tavern. Now, however, as Daisy had to maneuver her way around the many tables – most filled with Hogwarts students – she wished they hadn't. It was a complete bother to have to squeeze through the narrow walkways, having to stop every now and then to apologize to one student or another, or the occasional older, suspicious looking wizard.

She noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting in a booth somewhere in the back and she waved enthusiastically – something the trio returned in various degrees of enthusiasm. Ron was notably the least happy to see her, but Daisy supposed that was to be expected with his sister hating her guts. Who knew what kind of lies she'd been telling him.

When she arrived at the bar at last, she was greeted by a friendly woman with a pretty face. Her curly blond hair was piled up onto her head in a messy bun and her bright blue eyes were shining. 'What can I do for you, love?'

'One Butterbeer, please.'

'Make that two,' another voice drawled as the woman – who she presumed was the famed Madam Rosmerta – was about to turn away from the bar.

In hindsight, Daisy knew she really shouldn't have been surprised when Draco Malfoy stepped up next to her, a lazy smirk on his lips. However, she couldn't help the way her breath got caught in her throat, nor the way her heart seemed to skip a beat. Throwing him one of her most annoyed looks, she pretended none of it had happened, though. 'What do you want, Malfoy?'

He pulled up an eyebrow 'No Draco this time? And here I was thinking we were finally getting along.'

Daisy was ready to punch the crap out of him, would even have done it right then and there with half of Hogwarts present, but was stopped by the voice of the landlady.

'Here you go, kids. That will be three sickles each.'

She was fishing out her wallet, ready to start fiddling with the strange wizarding money, when a hand came forward and rested on her lower arm, the heat scorching the bare skin.

'Allow me.' And before she knew it, he had laid not six, but eight silver sickles on the bar. Grabbing one of the tankards, he left without another word.

Daisy was left standing there for another moment, alternating between staring at the empty place beside her and the paid Butterbeer on the bar. Then, as she noticed Madam Rosmerta was giving her increasingly meaningful looks, she took her drink and left.

'What happened to you?' Amanda asked, taking in the empty look and overall slowness of her friend as she returned to their table.

The Gryffindor just shook her head, placing the Butterbeer absent-mindedly on the table as she opted to stare into the distance. Her mind had gone completely blank and her lust for the drink had vanished completely. She took a large swig from the tankard, nevertheless, hoping that it would somehow ease her frazzled nerves. A treacherous voice in the back of her mind wondered when Draco Malfoy started to have such an effect on her, but she pointedly ignored it.

'You do know there's alcohol in that.. right?' Amanda inquired carefully, worry clearly etched in the frown on her face, as Daisy finished the last of her Butterbeer.

'We saw that Malfoy boy follow you to the bar. He didn't give you any trouble, did he?'

Daisy's silence was all the confirmation the Bulgarian needed and his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown.

'_Shte go ubiya, tupo kopele,_' he growled, sounding so menacing that Daisy did not even want to know what it meant. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his tankard, the knuckles white from exercise and his look positively murderous. When he spoke again, his accent was thick and his anger barely controlled. 'What did he do?'

'Nothing! I.. He..'

'He what?'

She blushed at this point, for the first time in years, and looked down into her empty glass. 'He bought me a drink.'

The imprecation that he had no doubt ready died on his lips and his mouth fell open. 'Oh.'

'Yes.. oh, indeed.'

* * *

**Shte go ubiya, tupo kopele = **I'll kill him, bastard.


	39. Chapter 38

**AN: Hello everyone. Last week was a rather painful week for Harry Potter fans everywhere and of those who enjoy Alan Rickman's work in general. I personally am very saddened by the news, not just for his portrayal of Snape, but for the many memorable parts he played. The world has lost another great artist. I want to thank _sakurapetals0192_ (I am really glad you enjoyed it!) and _JustAFangirl_ (If I may ask; do you root for Stojan?) for their lovely reviews. You guys are amazing. Also, if there are any aspiring writers out there who want to write, but are lacking an idea; take a look at my story ideas up for adoption. Maybe you'll find something to your liking! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 38

'Despite the good company I've been having,' he winked at this, 'I'll be glad to return to Bulgaria in the summer. I miss my family and to be honest, I despise your stupid British weather.'

'What's wrong with _our_ weather?' Daisy called out exasperated, earning a few looks from the passersby in the hallway. It was nearing dinnertime and since most students were already at the Great Hall, her voice had carried far into the stone corridor. 'If I remember correctly, you are the one living in a country with freezing temperatures and loads of snow.'

'We have snow, yes. Snow is okay. But you have this, this, this never-ending drizzle that will not make you wet but still somehow manages to soak you to the bone! No, I will be most pleased to be back in Bulgaria for the summer, actually getting to see some sunlight.'

'We have some sunny days in the summer as well!'

Stojan laughed; a deep, rich sound that made her automatically smile as well. '_Some_ sunny days?! I feel sorry for you, Daisy. Say, why don't you come over for a few weeks in the summer? I could show you around, teach you some Bulgarian culture, perhaps get you in the sun..'

It did sound nice. She had never really been on a vacation outside the UK before, her aunt and uncle preferring hiking holidays in the Scottish highlands over spending time in crowded rural areas. 'I can't,' she sighed, the reality of such a plan hitting her 'I don't have the money to pay for a plane ticket and I can't possibly ask my aunt and uncle.'

For a moment Stojan just stared at her with a blank face, then he chuckled and shook his head. 'You know there is such a thing as magical transport, right?'

'But I can't disapparate, I'm not seventeen yet.'

'We could arrange you an international portkey,' he provided helpfully, then stopped in front of the doors to the Great Hall. 'You don't have to decide now, just think about it.'  
'I wi..' She trailed of mid-word, her attention distracted by something that happened over his left shoulder.

Following her gaze, Stojan looked over his shoulder to see the Gryffindor locked in a stare with Draco Malfoy. He clenched his teeth as he noticed that the boy had just waved off his posse, practically having to force the raven-haired girl through the double doors of the Great Hall, and was now gesturing for Daisy to come over.

He sighed 'You don't just have to do whatever he tells you to, you know.'

'I know, I just..' And there it was. How could she ever tell Stojan, who had been nothing but friendly ever since she'd met him, that a part of her enjoyed being around Malfoy? How could she even explain to herself that that same part made her go all warm inside just by looking at him? He was a git; the greatest pain in her arse to have ever walked the earth. 'I'm just going to see what he wants.' Before she trudged off, she threw an apologizing smile over her shoulder at the Bulgarian 'Don't wait for me, I'll meet you after dinner!'

As she stepped up to the Slytherin, Daisy couldn't ignore how her body started to feel all fuzzy and warm, and she scowled at the boy. 'What is it this time? I already granted you your favour by helping you steal the..-'

His hand wrapped around her wrist and he pulled her a little further to the side, leveling her with a glare. Funnily enough all she noticed was the electric shocks that his touch elicited and the faint smell of green apples that reached her nostrils. What was he doing to her? 'Keep your voice down, you idiot! Not everyone needs to know that we stole ingredients from Snape's cupboard. Now, as for the favour; stealing the ingredients was only the first part.'

'What?!' She couldn't help but shriek out, yanking her arm out of his grip in the process and taking a step back. He couldn't be serious, right? Sure, she didn't really see the harm in nicking some potion ingredients from Snape; he most likely wouldn't miss them anyway. But what he was asking her, well, it made her sick just to think about it.

'Keep your voice down,' he repeated, rather impatiently. 'Now if you'll just listen, I can explain wha..-'

'No! Whatever you think of me, I'm not going to help you drug some poor girl just because she didn't want to go out with you. That's just gruesome!'

He was silent for a moment, leveling her with a look that much rivalled Stojan's earlier when they were speaking of transport. Contrary to Stojan's however, she quickly became uncomfortable beneath this look. She was about to speak up – translating her discomfort in some cuss words – when he opened his mouth at last. 'Drug?'

Somehow that one word infuriated her even more. How dare he pretend that what he was doing was not completely twisted?! That he was not just taking away some girl's choice over who she did and did not want to date?! 'Yes, drug! I consider slipping a girl Amortentia to make her fall in love with you drugging and regardless what you think of me; I won't help. Favour or not.'

A shadow fell over them before Malfoy had the time to respond, and they looked up to find the very last person they wanted to see hovering over them.

'A Gryffindor and a Slytherin hanging around outside of the Great Hall might make some suspicious. With your history of detention, you might want to try staying out of trouble for once,' Snape finished sharply, giving them – or rather; her – a warning look.

'I was.. We weren't..-'

'With Mr. Potter and yourself in one House, Gryffindor can hardly afford to lost any more points.'

A sharp kick in the shins kept her from rising to the bait and she nodded instead. 'Yes professor.'

Snape leveled her with another menacing glare, Malfoy with a slightly less murderous but still scary look, and then turned on his heel and left – his black robes billowing behind him.

She didn't even get the time to breathe, for when the Potion's Master was out of earshot, Malfoy rounded on her again and all but pressed her against the wall. 'Amortentia? Are you out of your mind? Whatever would I need Amortentia for?'

She pushed him off, careful to hide the electric currents that once again passed through her at touching him, as well as the unexplainable relieved feeling at hearing his denial. 'Well what was I supposed to think? Powdered Moonstone and Ashwinder eggs; I only put two and two together.'

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly needing all his strength to keep calm. 'Next time just don't.'

'Don't what?'

'Think.'

She wanted to say something mean back – perhaps say something about the Amortentia not being strong enough anyway; the girl would have probably thrown herself off of the Astronomy Tower before dating him – but somehow those words mingled with others and when she opened her mouth, something else entirely came tumbling from her lips. 'So you did not make Amortentia?'

'Of course not.' Why did those three words make her so happy? Why did she even care about Malfoy's love life in the first place? She didn't, she told herself in a stern voice, she just didn't want to be roped up in the mess of having to administer the potion.

'All right, well that's… good, I suppose.'

He didn't say something for a moment, just stared at her in a way she could not decipher. Then, after what felt like hours under his scrutiny, Malfoy cleared his throat. 'Now we've got that out of the way, are you finally ready to listen to me?'

~ Draco ~

When he entered the Great Hall after ten minutes of explaining the last part of the favour to McCalman, he couldn't shake the strange feeling he was having. His body felt warm and his head slightly light. Perhaps he was developing a fever. Looking up at the High Table, he noticed Snape was giving him a meaningful look.

Yes, definitely a fever.

* * *

**AN: So I usually try not to ask too much of my readers, but this time I would like to hear from you your first - or most memorable - impressions of Snape (or any other part that Alan Rickman played) and why it made such an impact on you. **


	40. Chapter 39

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome back! I hope you've all had a wonderful weekend. Enjoy this week's chapter and don't forget to tell me what you think. Constructive critism and feedback is always welcome!**

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Chapter 39

The next few weeks flew by in relative peace and before they all knew it, the Easter holidays were upon them. For many of them this meant a brief respite of homework, coupled with copious amounts of chocolate. For Daisy, however, well… it wasn't all _that_ amazing.

She received no chocolate eggs for Easter, as her aunt and uncle were still too unused to post by owl to send something by themselves – much like Daisy herself – and no one else would care enough to send her chocolate. Unlike Hermione, who had already met Ron's parents and was practically part of the family, her friends' parents probably had no idea that she even existed. Not that she really minded, though. No, she didn't really like chocolate in the first place.

Of course, missing out on a chocolate fest was not really a legitimate – though perfectly understandable, in Daisy's mind – reason for ruining her mood for the entire week. Luckily, she could always count on Draco Malfoy to give her a valid reason for being in a foul mood..

She had not heard from him ever since that day outside of the Great Hall, when he'd explained the nature of the favour to her. Granted, it had been a lot less bad than having to drag some girl into a broom closet and force Love Potion down her throat, but she'd still been quite relieved when he'd kept his distance for the next few weeks. In fact, he had not even sneered or made fun of her in passing, which gave rise to the suspicion that he might be mortally ill. A girl could only hope.

Her luck was not to last, however, for on the very morning of Easter, when she left the Great Hall with a scowl on her face, he pulled her against the wall, much like he'd done a couple of weeks ago. Before she even got to open her mouth in protest, he scowled and stepped away, letting his arms fall to his sides. 'Save it, McCalman. I'm in no mood for your petty insults or smartass comments. I just came to tell you that we start today.'

'What? Now?!'

He didn't say anything until the group of third year Hufflepuffs, all with their pockets stuffed with chocolate, had walked by. Then he fixed her with a glare. 'Of course not now. Do you think I'm an idiot?' Seeing the look on her face, he sighed deeply 'Don't even answer that. I'll see you at eight o'clock tonight in the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. Do _not_ be late.' And without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel.

Watching him as he stormed of, his robes billowing around him, Daisy noticed for the first time that his pockets were empty of chocolate, too.

* * *

That evening, Daisy arrived at the girls' bathroom on the First floor at eight sharp. Opening the door carefully, she peaked her head inside to find Malfoy seated in a corner of the room, a cauldron already in front of him. All right, so perhaps she was not as sharp as she had intended – and would have been, had she not made a last-minute detour past the Kitchens.

'You're late. What a surprise,' Malfoy remarked snidely, while lighting a fire underneath his cauldron. He didn't look up as she dropped herself down beside him, though he did snatch a book away quickly before it was squashed.

Peering past him at the variety of ingredients, Daisy pulled up an eyebrow in question. When he did not catch – or pretended not to catch – her unspoken question, she sighed. 'You were very fast to dispel my ideas of you making a Love Potion. You didn't tell me, however, what it _is_ we are making.'

He threw her an unreadable look, then shoved the book – which she now recognized as an advanced Potions manual – into her hands. 'Page 279.'

'Malfoy.. this is very advanced Potion making. We're not supposed to do these until fifth year.'

'Yet I need them now. Are you the Conductor or not? Now, page 279.'

In ways of a reply, she opened the book to the correct page – and was about to close it again. 'Draught of Peace? This is what you had me help you steal the Ashwinder Eggs and Moonstone for?'

'If you would actually read what it says,' he started calmly, though she noticed with some interest that his jaw was clenched 'this potion only uses the powdered Moonstone. The eggs are for another potion, which is for another night. Now could you just start the instructions.'

She nodded, a little dazed with all this new information whirling through her mind. Where she'd been more than a little confused as to why he would need Amortentia, the thought of Malfoy needing the Draught of Peace was all the more alarming – and she found it worried her. 'Add powdered Moonstone until the potion turns green.'

He did as she told, measuring the Moonstone with skilled fingers and dropping it into the cauldron carefully.

'Now stir the potion seven times, both clockwise and counter-clockwise.'

As he once again followed her instructions, she took the time to study him. He was indeed quite handsome, she surmised, taking in his sharp but flawless features, his even skin and soft looking hair. There was something about him though, as she had thought so many months ago in the Owlery, that made him look older than he really was. The purple skin under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights and the look in his eyes was concentrated, yet tired.

'What's next?'

'What?'

'The potion… what do the instructions say next.'

'Oh.. I.. er.. "Add powdered Moonstone until the potion turns purple". Say Malfoy, what's the other potion we'll be brewing?'

He didn't answer her right away, adding the ingredient to the cauldron first. 'A Replenishing Potion.'

This raised more questions than it answered and surprisingly, she felt the pit of worry in her stomach grow. Something was definitely wrong with Draco Malfoy. There had to be something linking it all together, something she was missing. There had to be a reason why he said he _needed _the potions, why he'd go as far as steal from his own Head of House to acquire the ingredients. There had to be a reason for the dark shadows under his eyes – those shadows she'd first seen all those months ago. Her memory flashed back to that morning, when she'd noticed in surprise that he had not received any chocolate eggs either, but the corner of a letter had been showing from inside his pocket. She remembered when she'd mocked him in the Owlery with his own letter. And then another memory, one stored far away but not forgotten, came floating to the surface. A memory of a long night of detention, a memory which she had sworn never to speak of again. Could this be the link connecting all the dots? Could this man, who had caused her so much harm, inflict the same pain on his own family?

'Malfoy, are you all r..-'

'Don't. Just don't, okay? I don't need your pity.'

She nodded solemnly, taking it as the answer she'd expected – and dreaded.

Remembering her detour, she pulled the chocolate eggs she had gotten from the Kitchens from her pocket, handing one to the Slytherin boy sitting next to her. 'I quite forgot. Happy Easter, Draco.'


	41. Chapter 40

**AN: Welcome back everyone to chapter 40. Forty, can you believe it?! We're nearing the end of the school year, with no small amount of trouble waiting there for everyone (But let's not tell Cedric, okay?). For now, I would like you all for sticking up with me so far and especially those that have encouraged me to keep writing through their reviews. This week I want to thank _dsi user_ for her review of last week's chapter. Don't worry, it will all be explained in this chapter! Now, on we go!**

* * *

Chapter 40

'You've been spending quite a lot of time with Malfoy recently,' Amanda observed quietly, not looking up from her half-finished Charms homework. Her tone was unassuming, yet Daisy felt the urge to defend herself.

But what could she say? She _had_ spent the last few evenings in his company – and in the girls' bathroom, of all places! As unassuming as her tone was, Daisy knew well the implied meaning behind the observation. In that matter, however, she would have to disappoint her friend – or bring relief, given that Amanda wasn't exactly partial to the Slytherin. Despite their many hours spent together, her offering of the chocolate egg to him had been the closest they had gotten. After that, they had quickly regressed to their old habits; insulting each other to the point that they were ready to curse each other. In the seldom moments that they weren't at each other's throats, she often found her mind wandering in the same direction the Hufflepuff's had dared to venture and it always left her feeling slightly queasy. It was of no matter though. Tonight they would finish the Replenishing Potion and she would see no more of him for the remainder of the year.

And yet, somehow that statement didn't fill her with the elation that it should have. It seemed to fit right in with her other thoughts and feelings regarding the Slytherin; muddled and terribly confusing. For once, she found herself agreeing whole-heartedly with something Draco had said.

It had been Thursday evening, when they had finally finished the Draught of Peace and had been in the process of bottling and cleaning up. They had spent the evening in exceptional silence, which was only due to the fact that Malfoy was exceptionally ill-humoured – even for him. She had tried to get a rise out of him, get him to laugh, to talk; anything if it meant that he would stop staring at the cauldron, as if the inanimate object had somehow personally offended him. She had given up after an hour of fruitless teasing and resigned herself to an evening of utter boredom.

For most of the time, much like with the rest of the week, she had pondered over what she had found out about Draco Malfoy's private life only days ago. The revelation had not yet settled, bringing her mind reeling whenever she thought about it. Truly, it shouldn't have surprised her all that much. After all, wasn't that what they always say? That the bully becomes a bully because he was himself bullied once? And in Malfoy's case, bullied was a grave understatement.

For the past few days, Daisy had been fighting her own curiosity, knowing that the Slytherin wouldn't take kindly to the questions – if the menacing looks he threw her were at all an indication. It had been easier at first, with the discovery still fresh in her mind and her stomach still twisted from the sheer disgust she felt for the man that now appeared to not only be a murderer, but also the abuser of his own flesh and blood. Now, with her stomach settled and the disgust overridden by curiosity and some other emotion she could not name, she found it a lot harder to respect his wish for privacy.

When at last the potion was bottled and they were in the process of clearing the bathroom of evidence, her curiosity could not be contained any longer. 'Malfoy?'

He stopped in the middle of his movements and his shoulders dropped. Even with his back turned to her, she could tell he had expected her questioning to begin sooner or later. Expected – and dreaded. She felt almost sorry for bringing up the subject and for a second, she was lost in a moment of meta-cognition.

When did she start caring about his discomfort? Her mind could give her no clear-cut answer to that. What she did know, however, was that somehow, somewhere along the road she had and she did not know how to feel about it.

'Well? Are you actually going to ask me or are you going to give me pitiful looks for the remainder of this year.'

'I was only trying to give you some space!'

'Space to do what? Come to you on my own when I'm "ready"?' He sneered, accurately guessing her intentions – and throwing them right back in her face.

'Why you insuffer.. Yes, so what? I'm sorry for trying to be a decent human being. You seemed like you needed a friend and I was only.. Urgh, never mind.'

'A friend? You're delusional, McCalman.' He'd cleared some spilled liquid with a swift _Scourgify_, then turned to throw her another scorching glare. 'To think for a moment that I would spend time with you for any other reason than necessity is absolutely laughable.'

'Fine,' she had yelled right back at him, forgetting her earlier reserve at his harsh words – and the unexpected hurt they caused. 'You want me to say it? You want me to ask you whether or not your father hurts you and your mother? But then; don't I already know? If your reaction that night when I insulted your mother didn't speak volumes, or the potions didn't tell me all I needed to know, your Boggart explained it all. You act all proud and mighty, Draco Malfoy, put up a tough exterior, but you're scared. You can pretend all you want, but that's the truth. You're scared and too much of a coward to stand up to him to change anything.'

'You want to talk about pretending? You, who's Boggart is her own failing, wants to talk about putting up a tough exterior, about being a coward? I was wrong. You're not just delusional. You're completely deranged.' He'd walked out after that, leaving her in a state of hurt and confusion. She had not moved until Moaning Myrtle had come out of her cubicle, clearly having overheard the entire conversation, and came to tell her she'd completely messed it up. As if she didn't know already.

'Daisy.. are you all right?'

Looking up, she noticed Amanda had put her quill down, now observing her with those big, brown eyes filled with concern. She realized that she had never responded to the observation the Hufflepuff had put forward, instead getting lost in memories that had stirred all kinds of emotions. None of them good. 'I'm fine.'

Her friend sighed, but chose not to comment. They both knew something was wrong, but Amanda had learned that Daisy would come to her eventually. 'So, the Third Task is coming up. Do you think Harry is prepared for it?'

Daisy scoffed and for a moment forgot about her own pressing worries. 'He's as prepared for the task as I am to teach a Hippogriff to sing Christmas carols.'

* * *

Later that day, Daisy found herself in front of the girls' bathroom on the First floor with no small amount of anxiety, staring at the door as if it could somehow jump to her and swallow her whole. After Thursday's disaster, she had not been sure whether to return for the last session they'd planned. He had never said the appointment was off, however, and so – with overwhelming dread weighing her down – she had trudged her way up to the First floor, looking for all the world as if she had an appointment with the gallows. She tried not to think of the last time they'd spoken, the insults still fresh in her mind and the wounds not yet healed.

Daisy had not meant for it to lead to that, but as always seemed to be the case when Draco Malfoy was concerned, she seemed unable to keep control of her mouth. Somehow she had found the words tumbling from her lips in a furious frenzy before she could even rethink them. And when said, it was too late.

Taking a deep breath, she looked once again at the wooden door. Slapping some sense into herself mentally, she reached reluctantly for the doorknob. She would prove to him she wasn't a coward. She would prove him wrong.

* * *

**AN: So how do you expect the confrontation to go? More tongue lashing or will they actually find some common ground to work on? Tell me what you think!**


	42. Chapter 41

**AN: Hello! For those of you who celebrate it: Happy Carnaval! For those who don't: I hope you still had a wonderful weekend. This chapter is dedicated to my lovely reader and reviewer _JustAFangirl_, I'm really thankful for all your lovely reviews! Now, on with the story!**

* * *

Chapter 41

I am not a coward.

With those words devotedly repeated in her head like some sort of incantation or prayer, Daisy stepped into the girls' bathroom. The room was seemingly vacated on first glance – except for the ghost of a whiny teenage girl sitting in one of her favourite spots in the window sill. Letting her eyes roam over the smashed mirror, unhinged cubicle doors and flooded toilets, the bathroom appeared even more depressing than usual.

After another, somewhat melancholy, look around the deserted bathroom, Daisy made her way over to the corner that had been used as a potion's lab for their highly questionable activities. It was empty now and somehow that seemed to lower her spirits even more. As she sat down on the ground, she tried not to listen to the contradicting thoughts in her head – but found herself thinking them nonetheless. A part of her was relieved to find herself alone in the bathroom. Although she was partly to blame for the argument they'd had, she wasn't quite ready to take responsibility of her actions – at least not towards Malfoy himself. At the other hand, she couldn't help but feel a little crestfallen in his absence. Beside the more direct disappointment at being stood up, there was also the indirect hurt of what his absence meant in the greater picture of their acquaintance that caused a constriction of her chest.

Before she had any time to dwell on what any of this meant, the door to the bathroom opened and closed rather violently. And there he stood, in all his ill-mooded, foul-tempered glory. As of yet, it seemed that Draco Malfoy had not yet taken notice of her – if he would, she was sure the scowl on his face would have deepened any more – and he marched up to her unknowingly. It was only when he was but meters away from their corner when he noticed her – and stopped in his step.

As Daisy had predicted, the frown on his face deepened and the corners of his lips went down even more – if that was even possible. For a moment he eyed her with a look of distrust, then it turned to anger, then quickly morphed into his usual mask of indifference. He continued his walk, dropping the potion's manual on the ground with a large _thud_ and lifted the Disillusionment Charm from the cauldron. As he went through this routine, he made it a point to glaringly ignore Daisy's existence.

'You're late,' she blurted out, in a moment of discomfort and raging feelings of guilt.

He didn't look up at this statement, instead choosing to light the fire underneath the cauldron with his wand. '_You_ are early,' he corrected, then continued to mutter: 'The world's full of surprises, it seems.'

Daisy bit her lip to keep from lashing out at his snide remark, annoyance already pushing back her earlier feelings of disappointment and guilt.

They didn't speak as the Blood-Replenishing Potion was reheated and Daisy took this time to get her own emotions in check. She needed only to survive today's session and they would never have to speak again. Surely she could manage one evening with him without stabbing his eyes out with her wa..-

'I hadn't expected you to show up, to be honest. I thought that even you would get when you're not wanted. Really, for someone with purportedly power beyond imagination, you're rather thick.'

Just ignore him, Daisy told herself mentally, whilst clamping down her yaws to control her loose tongue. He was just trying to get a rise out of her – and was doing a bloody good job at it. Taking up the manual with cramped hands, she flipped it open to the right page and pretended to be reading. In actuality, she was trying very hard to block out his harsh words.

~ Draco ~

'..of course more of a coward. Surely you've only come here to grovel for my forgiveness.'

As the last word left his lips – and already another few acid ones were ready to follow – he was hit rather painfully by the potion's manual in the head. When he had recovered from the unexpected blow, he finally registered that the Gryffindor had jumped up from her spot and was now screaming at him.

'..Enough! All you've done so far is insult me and I am absolutely sick of it! I came here despite what happened on Thursday, despite having enough reasons _not_ to come, despite every inch of my sanity telling me not to come, but I'm beginning to seriously doubt that decision.'

'Then why did you come?' Draco had now also gotten to his feet, mirroring her stance as he stared her down.

She blinked in response to his question, clearly having expected him to shout back at her. Her face had gone surprisingly soft in that moment and he traced the contours of her face with his eyes, allowing them to take in the slight curve of her slightly upturned nose, the sprinkle of freckles that dusted her cheeks and the soft pink of her lips. Those lips..

Then the moment was gone and her eyes sparked with fury, her lips once again pulled back in a snarl, and she took a step forward until their noses were only inches apart. 'So my debt would be repaid and I would never have to deal with the likes of you again.'

The sharp words only vaguely registered in his mind as he stared into those amber eyes, drowning in their fiery depths. In hindsight, Draco wouldn't quite be able to tell who initiated it, only that he had suddenly found their lips locked in a searing kiss – and that he hadn't done anything to stop it.

As he moved his lips against hers, he was surprised to find that they were softer than the words escaping them would have one believe. She tasted like spring; fresh and sweet, but with a hint of hot summer nights lingering beneath the surface. It was innocent, yet bold and Draco couldn't help but think it was completely befitting of her.

When she pulled her face away to draw a quick breath, he moved his lips down her throat, administering short kisses down the column of her neck. He could feel the erratic beating of her heart beneath the pulse point and sucked the skin there, breathing in the soft smell of her body. He remembered when he'd first smelled that scent of rain and white floral back in the potion's cupboard. He had wanted to kiss her then, but reason had won out in the end.

He felt her arms snake up his back and soon her small hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging, yet ever trying to get him closer. Draco allowed her to pull his mouth back to hers and bit her bottom lip teasingly. She moaned softly in response, which only spurred him on, and he found that his own hands had somehow already found their way onto her body, moving and touching seemingly out of their own will.

Inexperienced as she clearly was, she made up for it with an eagerness and passion that matched his own in intensity. When he deepened the kiss, she gladly followed and pulled him up against one of the walls, all the while still tugging and pulling his hair.

His hands, in the meanwhile, were exploring more and more of her body, mapping it out as if he would never get the chance to feel it again. They tugged and pulled at her clothing in equal fervor, wishing to feel more of her sweet, soft skin, when suddenly she pulled away from him and stepped back.

Still panting, he took in the disheveled state of her uniform, the strawberry hair that stood up in all sorts of places and then her wide, amber eyes. Then, with the passion induced haze lifted from his mind, the reality of the situation finally settled in.

'Oh Merlin.'

* * *

**AN: I hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter. I'll have you know that I had extreme difficulties getting this on paper as I'm not really great with romantic scenes. My first instinct was just to write "And they kissed. It was nice." but that wouldn't have been as satisfying, now would it? Let me know if you enjoyed it, if I did well for my first kissing scene, and any points of feedback are always welcome!**


	43. Chapter 42

**AN: Welcome everyone! I hope you're all having/have all had a wonderful day. I want to thank _that red head girl 14 _and _JustAFangirl _(Your review made me smile a lot; I'm glad you liked it and well.. don't we all want to be kissed like that by a certain Mr. Draco Malfoy? (; ). Anyways, enjoy and don't forget to review! (:**

* * *

Chapter 42

As he stormed out on her for the second time in just one week, Daisy couldn't help the hand that reached up and tenderly touched her lips. The lips that were only moments ago touching his. What on earth had just happened?

One minute she had been sure that this was going to be the day that she finally killed Draco Malfoy. Her anger had had her seeing red and she had been seconds from hitting the boy with some sort of curse – or her fists. Then, suddenly his lips had found hers and the world had disappeared in a green apple and spice induced haze. Her hate for him had melted away, her fury had turned to passion, anger to lust, and all she'd wanted was to remain in that embrace for the rest of her life.

The strangest thing about it all, she considered as she stared out of the open door, was that for a moment he had seemed to want it too. For a moment, no matter how short it might have been, Draco Malfoy had wanted to kiss her with the same intensity as she had wanted to kiss him. And that was.. well, that was something to think about.

Pushing herself off the wall, Daisy made for one of the sinks on wobbly legs. As she plashed some cold water in her face, she noted with dismay the blush that stretched from one cheekbone to the other. Wobbly legs and blushing; this boy would be the death of her.

She took a deep breath, resolving not to think about Draco anymore – and failing the next second when she wondered if he was thinking about her, too – and stepped towards the door. Before she could reach for the knob, her vision was clouded by the silvery body of a ghost.

She groaned. 'What now, Myrtle?'

The teenage ghost just stared at her from behind her thick, round glasses, not saying anything yet not moving aside either. Despite knowing how unpleasant a sensation passing through a ghost was, Daisy had half a mind to do just that.

'I don't have time for this! If you've come again to remind me of how pathetic I am, spare yourself the trouble; I already kn..-'

'You forgot the cauldron.'

'Yes, Myrtle, I.. wait, what?' By then the ghost had already floated off towards the cubicles, diving head first into one of the toilet bowls without a glance back.

It was the first time ever that Moaning Myrtle had done something remotely friendly to her – even helpful.

Ever since starting school, it had soon become clear to the Gryffindor that the ghost had taken a fancy to Harry and recently seemed to have become rather taken with Draco as well. It shouldn't be all that surprising; Myrtle was, after all, the ghost of a highly emotional teenage girl. As friendly as she was towards Harry and Draco, however, the ghost seemed to care little for the female population.

Putting this away as another issue that she would not dwell on for too long, Daisy quickly moved back towards the sheltered corner behind the sinks, where the Blood-Replenishing potion still stood very much visible. She put the fire out with a quick spell, then cast a perfect Disillusionment charm on the cauldron. After checking her spell work one more time, she left the bathroom.

Moving about the silent hallways of the castle, Daisy realised she must have dallied longer than she'd thought. Guessing the time to be around ten, she quickened her step, eager to be back at the Gryffindor Tower before curfew.

She was nearly at the Grand Staircase when the sound of voices reached her ears – and made her come to a stop. Straining her ears, she could now identify the voices of two males, speaking in low but agitated tones, and cautiously crept closer to the corridor bend. Their voices were now loud enough so that she could hear each word, yet she still did not understand a single thing. As she peaked around the corner, she understood why.

Igor Karkaroff and Viktor Krum stood on the stairs platform to the first floor, effectively blocking her way towards the dormitories, discussing in Bulgarian in hushed voices. Though she could not understand what it was there saying, it was clear that Krum was apologizing – and his Headmaster was not very forgiving.

They spoke for another few minutes until at last Krum righted his shoulders and leveled Karkaroff with a determined stare. He then uttered one last sentence, including a word that sounded suspiciously like 'Hermione', before he stomped off, Karkaroff following suit. And at last, they were gone.

'Did your parents not teach you eavesdropping isn't polite?'

Whirling around on her spot, Daisy found herself face to face with the last person she wanted to see – and visibly paled. 'P-P-Professor Moody.'

'No smart remarks this time, I see,' he noted, his mouth curling in a gruesome variation of a smile. 'I find it interesting that wherever there is rule-breaking, you seem to be involved.'

'Rule-breaking?'

'It's ten o'clock, which means curfew. But of course you didn't know that, did you miss McCalman?'

She wanted to protest, saying that she indeed did not know it was already that late, but realised that that was exactly what he expected her to do. Instead, she kept her mouth shut.

'Now that we are here, I think it might be a good time to _discuss _some things.'

The way he said it made the hairs on her arms stand on end. Warning bells were going off in her head and all her instincts were telling her to run. He knew.

'Do you come from a magical family, McCalman?'

'Partially, sir.'

'Does magic run in your father or mother's side of the family?'

She wondered how much she should tell him. Too little and he would surely know that she mistrusted him, too much and… well, it couldn't lead to anything good. 'My mother's side of the family.'

Professor Moody nodded, his electric blue eye staring right through her as he formed his next question. 'And is she as… magically _gifted_ as you are?'

'Alastor!'

Turning to the new voice in relief, Daisy didn't miss the vengeful look that appeared on professor Moody's face for a moment, before twisting back in a more neutral expression as they faced the Headmaster.

'Headmaster,' he acknowledged, nodding his head before pointing at her. 'I found this student out of bed and thought she needed to be reminded of the rules – and that punishment awaits those who break them.'

Professor Dumbledore now turned his bright blue eyes on her, noticing her as if for the first time. 'You're quite right, Alastor. And she will be. Now however, is not the time to lecture our students about the rules, nor to pose questions about the their magical ancestry.'

'But Headm..-'

'And if I'm not mistaken,' he continued, putting up a hand to silence the professor, 'I seem to recall that professor Trelawney and professor Snape are on patrol tonight.'

'I was merely out to stretch my leg a bit, Headmaster; it tends to get sore after sitting too long. Bu..-'

'Now that's all settled, I think I'm going to continue my walk to the Kitchens and see if the house elves still have some hot milk and honey left for me. Good night.'

With those words said, Daisy was dismissed. And she ran the remainder of the way towards the Gryffindor Tower.


	44. Chapter 43

**AN: Hi my dear, lovely readers! Hope you had a nice weekend! Thank you for still coming back every week to read the Conductor; you are absolutely wonderful and I love you! A special thanks to _sanna11_, _ThePinkyNinja _and of course _JustAFangirl_, you truly make my writing experience soooo much better! Now, on with the story! (And don't forget: reviews make a writer happy! (: )**

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Chapter 43

As she stared at the greasy haired man, Daisy tried desperately to pay attention to whatever professor Snape was explaining to them about what would be expected of them on next year's OWL's – knowing it would be important – but somehow found her mind drifting off to last month's events. The first week had definitely been the worst, she decided as the events played out in her mind's eye.

The first morning after that fateful night, she had stepped out of the Gryffindor Common Room with a strange feeling of light-headedness. Of course she'd realised that everything was not just going to change after one kiss, but couldn't help but feel that something had to be different. And she'd been right, unfortunately.

She'd been on her way to the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance by the Kitchens when she rounded a corner just to come face to face with a small group of Slytherins. Among them she clearly recognised Pansy Parkinson, who sneered as she caught sight of the Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy – her heart inadvertently skipped a beat. In the moment it had taken Daisy to tear her eyes away from the boy, Parkinson had pushed her way to the front of their little posse. The girl was already opening her mouth, about to spit something acid, when Dra– _Malfoy_ grabbed her arm and pushed past Daisy without another word or look.

The second time they met was on Tuesday, when she had been on her way to Potions. They almost knocked into each other a couple of corridors away from the classroom, but he'd stopped just in time to stop a collision. They'd stood facing one another for a moment, him never quite meeting her eyes. As he'd walked away, she'd wished they would have just crashed into each other.

The hurt of his blatant ignorance was larger than she cared to admit, the stab of loss she felt at being back to simply pretending the other didn't exist almost palpable, but by Thursday her hurt had turned to anger – making her want to kill him for seeing as much as a hair on his golden head. In general, her mood was blood-thirsty. It was an abrupt change, one her friends didn't enjoy in the slightest, but one she welcomed nevertheless. She hated feeling vulnerable, but anger.. anger she knew how to deal with.

That weekend Amanda and Stojan had forced her into coming to Hogsmeade with them, forcing copious amounts of Honeydukes' chocolate and The Three Broomsticks' Butterbeer into her until she became semi tolerable company.

After that, her mood lifted somewhat, though Daisy still had murderous urges whenever she saw or heard about Draco Malfoy. She forced him out of her conscious mind, however, refusing to ever waste a thought or second on the boy again.

With the lifting of her spirits also came the arrival of spring and, eventually, the announcement of the third and final task of the Tournament. It had been the 27th of May, she remembered clearly – if only because Mr. Crouch Sr. had been found wandering the perimeter of the school that day, half mad. It had marked the beginning of the end of the Tournament and of the year and Daisy, for one, couldn't wait for either to end. The summer holidays couldn't come soon enough as they would bring with them blissful peace and a safe distance between herself and all of her muddled and mucked up Hogwarts affairs.

A soft nudge of an elbow to her side startled Daisy from her ponderings, bringing her back to the present – and to the Potions class. Almost instinctively, her eyes darted towards the speck of platinum blonde in the corner of her vision, before they settled on the curly brunette witch beside her.

'We're going to research for anything useful for the Third Task tonight, do you want to come?'

Ever since Bagman's announcement of what the task would entail, the trio had spent nearly all of their free time researching useful spells. Daisy had helped them on several occasions, though she always felt more like a charity case than any real help. Although Hermione did not know the reason behind her recent foul mood, she seemed to have made it into her holy mission not to leave the new Gryffindor to her own thoughts too much.

'No thank you. I want to go to bed early tonight, I'm quite tired these days. Besides, I have a letter to send to my Aunt, so that will probably take up most of my evening.' She forced a smile on her face, pretending not to see the look of concern on the brunette's face; it was a common sight these days. Changing the direction of the conversation, she cast a quick look at Snape before giving her friend a knowing look 'So how are things going between you and Viktor?'

* * *

Daisy left dinner early for the Owlery, figuring that if she got the dreaded task out of the way she could at least enjoy the rest of her evening in peace. She had not lied when she told Hermione that she was tired. It was a kind of tired, however, that a good night's sleep wouldn't fix.

No matter how much she pretended Malfoy's silence didn't bother her, a small part of her still ached whenever she saw him. It was exhausting to pretend not to care, exhausting to pretend that she hadn't, for a moment, thought there could be something more between them. But it wasn't just Malfoy, it was.. well, everything.

Professor Moody hadn't managed to get her alone again after the incident in the hallway. He had tried more than enough, though. With the combined efforts of her Gryffindor and Hufflepuff friends, Daisy managed to keep him at bay – even though they thought her distrust to be completely misplaced. As a result of her constant vigilance (the irony did not escape her) she felt almost anxious walking the corridors alone.

As the sound of other footsteps reached her, Daisy instinctively pulled herself to the wall, listening as the sound got closer. When she'd confirmed the sound of two feet – rather than the sound of one foot and the thump of a wooden leg – she let out her breath.

Rounding the corner, she was stopped dead in her tracks once again. Staring at him with wide eyes, she watched as Draco Malfoy noticed her and then stopped too. She tried not to notice the way his platinum hair caught the light of one of the torches, giving it the appearance of a halo, or the way his silver eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, before growing cold.

This was it.


	45. Chapter 44

**AN: Welcome everyone, I hope you all had a nice weekend. I want to thank _JustAFangirl_ and _ThePinkyNinja_ for their reviews, I love you guys! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 44

Forcing her feet back into motion, Daisy tried her hardest not to let any of her internal struggles show. She would go to the Owlery like she'd planned, Draco Malfoy be damned. Unfortunately, however, he quickly fell into step with her as she passed him and she realised they must have a common destination as they started the ascend of the final staircase.

Neither of them spoke a word, yet the air seemed heavy with all the words left unsaid. Even the owls seemed on guard, as if expecting violence – not unlike the first time she and Malfoy had been in the Owlery.

As he moved off towards one of the owls, she decided it was probably best to do the same. The shorter the time she'd spend in one room with him, the better it would be for _all_ involved. Stepping up to a grey screech owl that was watching her with yellow eyes, she carefully extended her arm. Hoping it wouldn't fly off – or bite her limb off, preferably – she took a step closer. The creature turned its head on its side in curiosity, but otherwise made no movement as to indicate that he wanted to carry a letter for her. She took another step forward – and was immediately rewarded with a sharp peck to her index finger. Retreating her arm, she sighed deeply as she rubbed the sore spot and turned to find another, less unwilling, bird.

A large figure suddenly brushed by her, taking slow, but confident strides towards the unwilling screech owl. Daisy watched in surprise as the owl sized this new human up, then apparently approved of him if the acceptation of the strokes he received was any indication. The bird offered no painful pecks this time, only scooting closer to the Slytherin to show his appreciation.

Malfoy didn't say anything during the exchange, only holding out his hand to her when the bird had abandoned its place on the wall for his arm. The letter was placed in it in a similar silence and he tied it carefully to the bird's leg.

Dr- Malfoy,' she spoke at last, 'Can we please just talk.'

'About what?' He turned to face her, his expression cold and distant.

'About what happened, about what's going on between us, about.. everything.'

'Nothing is going on between us.' Turning his silver eyes on her, his next words cut into her like daggers. 'Kissing you was a mistake.'

She turned her head away from him, staring out of the window at the owl disappearing off into the distance. She would not let him see the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. 'Of course it was a mistake. Why else would you ever want to kiss me were it not for a lapse of common sense,' she tried to spat, but the words came out bitter and broken.

'Well what did you expect? That I planned for this to happen? That I wanted to have everything become this fucked up? Yes it was a mistake and you know it just as well.'

'Well, you ought to know,' she turned around to face him, all traces of sadness now hidden behind the look of anger on her face. She refused to feel the sharp edges of her broken heart jutting into her longs, refused to acknowledge the wound his words had opened.

He wanted to ask what she'd meant, but never got the chance.

When she spoke next, her voice was laced with venom. 'After all, you're the biggest mistake _anyone_ has ever made. It's no miracle your father abuses you and your Mom.'

For a split second, a look of utter surprise and hurt flitted across his face, then it was gone and in place was the cold mask.

'Draco, shit, I didn..-'

He held up a hand to silence her, then he turned and before she well realised it, he was gone.

The moment the words had passed her lips, Daisy knew she'd crossed a line. And staring at the empty doorway, she realised it was too late to be fixed.

* * *

The last few weeks until the exams had passed before anyone – except Hermione of course, who had been studying for the exams ever since Christmas – was well aware of it. For Daisy, who had been one of those completely forgetting about the tests, this meant a lot of reading, making summaries and studying into the late hours of the night. This was not as bad as it may seem, however, for it kept her mind from wandering to.. things she didn't want to think about.

The first three days of her exams had seemed to go quite well, with only her Potion's exam actually proving to be challenging. With a attention span as short as hers, it cost Daisy quite a lot of effort to carry out the instructions correctly. Draco Malfoy sitting three tables in front of her didn't exactly help either. She didn't really care, though, as long as she got a sufficient grade – whatever that may be; the magical grading system still confused her.

Wednesday evening found Daisy studying for her last exam, History of Magic, which at the same time was also going to be the hardest. With no practical skills to speak of needed, it all came down to how well students memorised the dates and names of important events and famous wizards and witches. Add to that several goblin rebels with strange names and Daisy was quite sure that she'd be better off just making up weird sounding names at the random (as Ron suggested she'd do) than to try and learn the actual names of things. With midnight already far behind her, the idea of doing just that seemed to become all the more alluring.

Apart from being the last day of exams, tomorrow was also the day of the Third Task. Although he still seemed far from well-prepared, Harry seemed at least a little more ready than he'd been for the last few Tasks. With a little bit of luck, he might actually survive this Tournament!

Her soft chuckle drew the attention of some of the other late night studiers and she quickly quieted down. She went back to reading for another full ten minutes, before a yawn squeezed itself through her lips and she was forced to acknowledge her growing fatigue. With Hermione's advice in mind ("You need to have a sharp mind during the exam or all your studying will have been for naught!"), Daisy gathered her things and went upstairs to the dormitories. She could always study some more during breakfast..

* * *

**AN: Quick note to everyone still reading. The end of the fourth school year will NOT be the end of this story, so don't worry! Also, what did you think of the conversation between Daisy and Draco? As always, she's let her temper do the talking. Oh Daisy, if only you would think before talking! But then again, what kind of Gryffindor would you have been if you'd been but a little more sensible?**


	46. Chapter 45

**AN: Hi guys! This chapter is going to be a mix of both uplifting and depressing parts so please, don't get a whiplash because of me! My biggest thanks to the lovely people who reviewed the last chapter (which were quite a lot!): _JustAFangirl, ThePinkyNinja _(the owl was indeed quite an asshole!), _Guest_ and _SatelliteEyes_ (thank you so much, I hope you like today's chapter!). Enjoy!**

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Chapter 45

'It was absolutely abominable!' Amanda moaned, as the two of them left the classroom.

'Abominable? You're not the one getting stuck on the name of that bloody goblin! I wasted half of my time just making up a nonsense name! And the end result was rubbish all the same!' Daisy had abandoned her hope of studying a little extra that morning for another fifteen minutes in bed. It had seemed like a good decision at the time, but now…

'Which one do you mean?'

'The one of the eighteenth century revolution. I remembered something about him being featured on a Chocolate Frogs Card, but couldn't for the life of me remember what his name was.'

'Urg the Unclean,' Hermione helpfully supplied, coming up at her other side. 'I thought it wasn't very difficult. What did you answer?'

'Uhm..'

'Well?'

'No that's what I called him. Uhm.. the Unexpressive.'

'Unexpressive?' Harry repeated slowly, trying his hardest not to laugh.

'It seemed logical!' Daisy defended herself. 'You know, with his name being Uhm and.. oh never mind,' she finished, seeing her friends' faces in several stages of amusement – apart from Hermione's of course. 'Let's get something to eat, I'm starving.'

* * *

Staring out over the silent maze, Daisy tried to imagine what the four Champions must be facing. Dumbledore had said that the goal was to reach the Triwizard Cup first, but it couldn't be that easy.. could it?

A gunshot – fired too early by an overly eager Mr. Filch – had signaled the start of the Third Task and, after a moment of hesitation, had seen Harry and Cedric disappear into the dark, mysterious body of the labyrinth. Soon after, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour had taken off as well. And then, all had been quiet.

Mist swirled over the seemingly unending green hedges and for not the first time that evening, Daisy hoped Harry was well. He'd been lucky in the first two tasks, earning points with his talent for flying and moral fiber. She doubted that either of those would keep him safe now.

'You don't think any real harm will come to them,' Amanda gulped softly. 'Do you?'

Before either she or Stojan had a chance to respond, a scream cut through the silent night. Soon after, red sparks flew up into the sky. Gasps sounded from all around them and some students stood up in their seats, trying in vain to see what was going on. They all knew what it meant though; a Champion was in danger. And by the sounds of it, it was Fleur Delacour.

Down at the ground level, all three Heads had come to their feet and were exchanging worried looks.

Suddenly, more sparks hit the dark evening sky, this time generated more to the west.

Another round of whispers ensued, this time louder, more on edge. Another Champion was in peril.

The minutes ticked by in silence when the sparks had disappeared from the sky. Everyone sat on the edge of their seats and even the Heads started to look progressively more anxious with every passing minute.

'I'm sure they're fine,' Daisy tried for comfort, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears. These students had willfully chosen to enter the Tournament, to face its dangers. They wouldn't forfeit lightly.

'Daisy's right; if they were in life danger, they wouldn't have been able to conjure the sparks.'

As she wrapped one arm around Amanda in what she hoped was comfort, Daisy tried pushing her own worries aside. Turning to give Stojan a nod of thanks, she noticed his gaze was fixed on a point just at the side of the maze. There, Fleur Delacour appeared, looking pale as a ghost and leaning heavily on professor McGonagall. With the help of the professor, the girl stumbled towards the Healing tent.

Soft muttering started to rise again from the stands, but was abruptly cut off when another two figures appeared on the edge of the labyrinth. This time it was professor Snape, levitating an unconscious Viktor Krum in front of him. He glanced at the Heads shortly, before they, too, disappeared into the Healing tent.

The whispers started up again; louder this time and carrying with them all the distrust that had marked the beginning of the Tournament. Was something going on? Had Dumbledore, after all, eliminated the other schools in order to have Hogwarts win the Tournament? And, perhaps even more important, was it all a ploy to have Harry Potter win the Triwizard Cup?

And then, all of a sudden, two figures appeared in the small patch of grass in front of the maze. One, wearing a black and red shirt, was still holding onto the Triwizard Cup as he leaned over the other figure, this one wearing black and yellow. Both were covered in dirt and blood, and a bad feeling was beginning to spread through Daisy's chest.

When Harry Potter at last lifted his tear-stricken face, he moved just enough to reveal the lifeless eyes of Cedric Diggory.

'Oh no.'

* * *

'Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.'

Staring into the distance, Daisy still had trouble wrapping her mind around what had happened only a week ago.

Cedric Diggory had died. A boy that had walked the same hallways as her, had attended the same classes, yet whom she had never really known, had died.

Amanda had been inconsolable and for the first time ever, the Hufflepuff had spilled words the way she had spilled tears that night. Yes, she had liked him and yes, she had taken more than just a platonic interest in him. But what was more; he had accepted her and welcomed her into the Hufflepuff House when everyone was still hesitant to do so. He had known her family's history and had discarded it in the same breath, instead treating her like any other. He had made her feel valued and wanted, where no one had ever before. And it may have been unrequited, and it may have been based not entirely on the right reasons, but Daisy realised it had been love. And so she had not spoken a word as the words kept pouring from Amanda's lips like the tears from her eyes, she had not told her of the growing fear in her own heart, the feeling of impending doom somewhere on the horizon.

Cedric Diggory, a boy who was both kind and good, had died. And yet, that was not what kept everyone up at night. It was what it meant. Everyone, everywhere. If Voldemort had truly returned – and Daisy did not doubt that he had – no one was safe anymore.

'Remember Cedric Diggory.'


	47. Chapter 46

**AN: Hi guys! I hope you've all had a nice day. Big thanks to _ThePinkyNinja_ and _JustAFangirl_ for reviewing last week's chapter. Chapter 46 is the last chapter before the summer vacation (for Daisy and Co, not me of course), so you can imagine that as of next week, the story will be following Daisy more closely and will be less weaved in with the actual books. Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 46

Looking around the empty dormitory, Daisy had difficulty believing the school year was actually, truly over. So much had happened in the last year and yet, it felt like a life time ago when compared to everything that had happened in the last weeks.

By miracle – or perhaps; magic – both she and her friends had all passed their exams. Daisy had even done tolerably well in most of the other exams, earning herself a few 'Exceeds Expectations', and even an 'Outstanding' for Transfiguration beside some 'Acceptables' for the less practice oriented classes.

Earlier that morning, the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had left for their respective homelands. The farewell had been a sorrowful one; the air had been pregnant with uncertainty, new found friends unsure when, if ever, they would see each other again. On top of that, professor Dumbledore's words had weighed heavily on everyone's mind. '_While we may come from different countries and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one. In light of recent events, the bonds of friendship we have made this year will be more important than ever.'_

Ravenclaws had shared meaningful looks with Slytherins, Beauxbatons with Durmstrangs, and in that moment, there had been no different Houses, no different schools dividing them. They had all just been teenagers, lost and uncertain of what the future would bring. All knew that they were on the verge of something big, but none dared to acknowledge it. And so, as the carriage of Beauxbatons had parked out on the green, wide fields of Hogwarts, and the ship of Durmstrang had once again docked on the shore of the Black Lake, no words were passed concerning the growing darkness. Instead, boys and girls, Bulgarians, French girls and Brits, students, teenagers, _children_, spoke their last goodbyes to their friends, holding a little extra tight, silently hoping that this would not be the last time they'd see each other.

Her own goodbye to Stojan had been a cheerful one, with neither of them wanting to admit to the truth of the situation. Perhaps, in hindsight, that made it all the more mournful.

'I will miss it here,' he had admitted truthfully, once they had separated from Amanda and her Gryffindor friends.

'Are you sure? I remember you saying something about strange British girls.'

'I have.. revised my opinion on that matter.'

'You have?'

'I have.' The corners of his mouth now lifted up in a smile to match her own. 'I've learned that actually, you are the only one who is crazy.'

She'd slapped his shoulder playfully, earning herself another laugh from the Bulgarian. Then, she smiled wickedly. 'Considering you've asked me to come over in the summer, I can't be that bad.'

'Well perhaps I just like crazy girls.'

Silence followed his statement, with both parties realising the truth behind those words. Daisy had cast her gaze to the ground and in the meanwhile, Stojan had looked over the many shorter students in the direction of the lake.

'I have to go,' he'd said, the reluctance clear in the tone of his voice. Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, he had smiled. 'I will write you as soon as I get home for a more formal invitation to our house. Keep.. _try_ to stay safe, okay?' Recent events gave a deeper meaning to his words.

'I'll try,' she'd replied, all the while not sure if she could. With Voldemort back, there was only so much she could promise.

He had pulled her into a hug then and, for once allowing herself to be weak, Daisy had held on a little tighter than was necessary.

In hindsight, there was so much more – so much more _meaningful_ things – that she had wanted to tell Stojan. She'd appreciated his friendship, valued it above much else and although Daisy wasn't particularly one for sentiments, it might have been nice to tell him that. In case that.. well, never mind.

She would miss the many evenings she'd lain awake, she realised as she looked around, listening to Lavender and Parvati's silly gossiping. She would miss all the times that Hermione would admonish her for oversleeping, all the times she'd complain about her never reading the texts. Hell, she would even miss Snape's underhanded nasty remarks. With a last look around the dormitories – her home for a year – she left the room.

* * *

Daisy spent most of the ride to London in solitude. Ron and Hermione were still chatting about the summer but like Harry, she did not feel like talking. Her mind was still heavy with recent events; some of which were good, some of which weren't. But the truth is, in the end it's going to be the bad things that matter. It's going to be the bad things that stick with you, that keep you up at night, that give you nightmares, and no matter how many good has happened, no matter how many friends you have around you, you'll still feel alone. Looking over at Harry, the Boy Who Lived, Daisy for the first time felt like she could see him – really see him. Bad things had happened to him and more than once, he had been forced to be so much older than he actually was. He had Ron and Hermione, and all those other people who like and admired him, but at night, he was all alone.

Daisy didn't doubt he had nightmares about that evening in the graveyard, when Cedric died and he'd had to watch Voldemort's rebirth. Even she had nightmares ever since that day and she hadn't even been there. It was always the same, too, with her standing on the stone path that led to the door of her Aunt and Uncle's house in Livingston. The door would be slightly ajar and her dream self would push it open slowly. The hall is in complete chaos, shards of broken glass from the mirror and pieces of pottery lying scattered on the floor. She would slowly step over the shards, in the direction of the living room. Then, a hand would latch onto her wrist and she'd wake up.

She did not know what the dream meant, but knew it had something to do with Voldemort's return.

Ripping her gaze away from the pained, empty eyes of the Boy Who Lived, Daisy stood from the bench abruptly. She couldn't take the pain anymore, could not take the suffering that was lying over the compartment like a suffocating blanket. 'I'm going to get changed.'

Out in the hall, she took a moment to collect herself before moving on. The hallway was empty, with all students wanting to spend their last moments in the company of their friends. Therefore, it surprised her when she came across a nearly empty one, the only occupant a pale boy with platinum hair and black and green robes staring forlornly out of the window. She hesitated a moment in front of his compartment. They had not spoken ever since her outburst in the Owlery. She needed to apologize to him, she realised, but couldn't make herself reach out to the compartment door. Instead, she rushed on towards the toilets. I'll do it on the way back, she told herself.

Changing into her Muggle clothes was a quiet, but disconcerting affair. Only a few months ago, these were not Muggle clothes; they were regular clothes. Now, the feel of her jeans against her skin felt almost unnatural, the fabric too rough, the fitting too tight. Trying to shrug the feeling off, she pushed her wand into her back pocket.

More people were out on the corridor when Daisy got out of the toilet. Some were chatting out in the hallway with students from other Houses, others were moving to other compartments to sit comfortably with different friends for a while. They all realised that if not now, there might not be another time.

With that thought in mind, Daisy marched up to Malfoy's compartment and not giving herself the chance to take the coward's way out, threw open the door. 'Malfoy, we need to..-'

In her blind determinism, she hadn't seen the second trunk that had been added to the luggage rack, hadn't noticed the almost empty compartment was now.. less empty.

She didn't hear the insults Pansy Parkinson was hurling at her head, could hardly care less what the stupid bint had to say about her. Instead, her eyes locked with Draco's and for a moment, she could swear she saw something akin to regret flash behind those mercury orbs. Then, she finally came to senses and slammed the door to the compartment shut, leaving Draco Malfoy with a very furious Pansy Parkinson still sitting in his lap.

Daisy didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the ride, choosing instead to make summer plans to block out the situation she'd just been witness to. Yet, as if to torment her, the images kept playing over and over in her head.

When the Hogwarts Express arrived at Platform 9¾ at last, she did not see the pair of silver eyes searching for her before she stepped through the magical barrier, back into the Muggle world.

* * *

**AN: First of all; I'm really really sorry for making this such a depressing, pessimistic chapter but I guess I just wanted to show the effects that Voldemort's return and of course Cedric's death has had on all of them. They're just teenagers, yes, but I imagine that they must have known something significant had changed, even though they might not understand or want to understand it all. I'm afraid that now we've reached this point, the story will follow with the Harry Potter books 5 and onwards in style, meaning that it will get a little darker. I hope you guys don't mind and also sorry for this chapter. As always, let me know what you thought about this chapter, I love you!**


	48. Chapter 47

**AN: Hello guys and welcome back! A big thank you to _JustAFangirl_ and _ThePinkyNinja_ for reviewing the last chapter. Before everyone starts reading, I just want to say: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! Don't hate me!**

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Chapter 47

'You managed to stay on your broom this time. That's a great feat for.. well, you.'

A well-aimed nacho hit him right between the eyes, smearing cheesy sauce all over his face. 'Just because your poor defense cost your team the victory, doesn't mean you can take it out on the poor referee, Robert.' Daisy smirked at him, watching as he attempted to wipe the sauce from his eyebrows.

When she'd arrived at Livingston, a letter had already been waiting for her. It wasn't from Stojan, as had been her first thought, but rather an invitation to join the group of young men on another friendly Quidditch match later that afternoon. As she hadn't quite wanted to return to her old bedroom – and face the strange emptiness she felt at being back – she'd taken on the task of convincing her Aunt and Uncle to allow her to leave again immediately after she had arrived. After a lot of convincing (and the promise to help with dinner the next day) they agreed, though on the condition that she would be back before eight. They had played – or in Daisy's case: refereed – on the pitch just outside London and had then jointly Apparated to a small Muggle pub for drinks and nachos.

'She's got a point there, mate,' James, who had been a Chaser for Robert's team, agreed. 'We might've had better chances by parking the bird in front of our loops.'

Roaring laughter filled the pub in the next moment and Daisy took that moment to check her Muggle watch. A quarter to eight; time to go.

'Well gents, I must be off. It was nice seeing you all and any offers of becoming Keeper may be send to me by Owl post.'

Another round of laughter followed and Robert made some impolite gestures towards her as she blew a kiss to him. Then, with a small wave to the group, she and Kevin left the pub. They walked into the small alley to the side in silence and after checking for any onlookers, disappeared with a soft pop.

As they reappeared in the twilight at Columbia Avenue, the street was deserted. When she'd been younger, the summer months would see children playing on the streets far into the evening. Daisy guessed that they, too, had grown up.

Releasing her hold on his arm, she turned to Kevin. 'Thank you for dropping me off, I suppose, though you really shouldn't have!'

The Seeker chuckled 'And let you endure another hellish trip on the Knight Bus, I don't think so.'

She didn't say anything to that, secretly glad that he had taken a pity to her. Starting her way up the stone path towards number 108, she gave him a last thankful smile as she came to the door. As she reached for the door knob, Daisy was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. A feeling of unease crept up on her, but it was quickly pushed down. It had been a warm summer day and it wasn't unusual for Ina McCalman to leave the door open at the end of the day to let some cool air in.

Opening the door further, she stepped into the darkened hallway. The sound of crushing glass drew her eyes to the floor, which she found to be riddled with shards of glass and broken porcelain. As she lifted her head, she took in the complete disarray the hallway was in and her gut twisted painfully as she surveyed the chaos. Many of the pictures had been knocked from their places and the golden framed mirror was cracked and several pieces of glass seemed to be missing.

'Aunt Ina?' She called out, her shaking voice doing little to mask the growing dread in her heart. 'Uncle Graham?' Stepping further into the hallway, Daisy noticed her Aunt's favourite china vase lying in pieces on the floor. Off in the living room, she could hear the voice of the newsreader gabbling over that evening's news.

'Aunt Ina?' She repeated, this time not even taking note of the desperate tone her voice had taken on. Following the voice of the newsreader, she continued on towards the living room. Perhaps they have simply fallen asleep to the news, a tiny hopeful voice spoke in the back of her head.

She stepped past the dark kitchen, ready to close the last few metres between her and the living room, when a hand latched onto her wrist.

Spinning back towards the kitchen, Daisy whipped out her wand in the process. What met her eyes, however, made her hand drop in shock.

'Are they gone?' Ina McCalman whispered in anguish, tightening her grip on her niece's wrist. Her face was pale white in the moonlight, her eyes wide with terror and despite its tightness, her grip visibly trembled.

Dropping down on her knees, Daisy inched closer to her Aunt, who sat huddled in the corner. She had never seen the older woman looking so lost, so fragile and even as she extended her free hand to rest on her shoulder, Ina winched visibly. 'Who are they? What happened?'

Her Aunt did not reply. Instead, almost as if in response, she started rocking back and forth in a rhythmic manner, uttering soft, painful moans as she relived the past horrors with open eyes.

'Aunt? Aunt Ina?' Daisy shook the older woman softly, again eliciting a winch from her. Then, another thought occurred to her. 'Where's Uncle Graham?'

Once again, no audible response came from the other woman. This time her eyes welled up, though, and her lip quivered as she slowly lifted her arm, the index finger extended in the direction of the living room.

Daisy pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet, but thought better of it and took hold of her Aunt's hand again. 'I will be right back.. I promise.' The other woman was once again moaning and rocking herself, but it seemed that for a moment, she had nodded tersely.

Without another word she turned from the kitchen. Remembering herself, she lifted her wand tentatively, ready for whatever could await her in the living room.

Nothing however, she realised in hindsight, could have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes as she stepped into the sitting room.

In contrast to the hallway, nothing was out of order here. All pictures of her, her Aunt, and her Uncle on various camping trips were still in their respectful places, the furniture was still upright and even the television was still on, now broadcasting next week's weather forecast. But in the middle of all that normalcy, in the centre of what was the image of a typical British household, lay the body of her Uncle, his wide, unseeing eyes staring out at the ceiling.

* * *

Gently stroking her hand, Daisy looked into the peaceful face of her unconscious Aunt.

Kevin, who had been alarmed when he'd heard her cries, had followed her inside the house and – upon realising the situation – had Apparated her and Aunt Ina into St. Mungo's. They were directed to the Fourth Floor, where it was confirmed that her Aunt's state was, indeed, a result of spell damage. Here, she was given a Dreamless Sleep Potion and had quickly drifted off into a state of blissful peace. It was then that Kevin returned, who had gone back to the house and had retrieved the body of Uncle Graham.

Uncle Graham.. He had died on a warm summer evening in his own living room, unprepared and unable to defend himself. He had died knowing that he could not protect his wife, knowing that he could do nothing to save either of them. He had died for nothing. The only comfort that she had now left was to know that at least he had died a painless death.

At that moment one of the Healers entered the room, his lime green robes billowing around him as he walked up to the hospital bed. He silently performed some monitoring charms, then wrote something down on the scroll that floated behind him. He sent her a commiserative smile 'She will be asleep for a little while longer. There's a Tearoom on the Fifth Floor, if you want to get some refreshments. There's nothing you can do for your Aunt at the moment.'

'No thank you.'

The Healer merely nodded, then left her alone again with her Aunt.

She did not know for how long she sat there. It could have been hours, or mere minutes. When the door again opened, she assumed it was another Healer to check up on her Aunt and therefore did not look up immediately.

The soft whispering of robes filled the air and when she finally looked up, Daisy had expected the Healer from before to have come back, perhaps bringing her some tea in a show of sympathy.

'The Healer-in-Charge told me no lasting damage has been dealt to her,' Albus Dumbledore spoke calmly, his gaze resting on the sleeping form of her Aunt. Then, he turned his blue eyes on her 'She will be all right.'

Daisy did not know what to say, so she simply nodded. It should have brought relief, yet somehow it did not manage to dull the ache in her chest. Nothing was ever going to be all right again. 'What happened to them?'

'Death Eaters. But I think you already knew that?'

'I suspected it, but I..' she dropped her head as tears started to well up in her eyes. 'I had hoped that I was wrong. That it was not my fault.'

'Your fault?'

'He knew didn't he? That Death Eater that pretended to be professor Moody. He knew what I was and he told Voldemort. And now my Uncle's d-dead and there's nothing I can do to bring him back.'

'Indeed there's not. But that does not mean you cannot still protect the living.'

Daisy gazed down at her Aunt, in her mind's eye still seeing the older woman's features contorted in terror. 'She will always be in danger because of me, won't she professor?'

'There is a way you can protect her, a way in which she will be alive and safe. But you must let her go.'

'What do you mean?'

'It means that we can make her forget about what happened to her this evening and to her husband. We can send her off somewhere safe, where she can live out the remainder of her days with a slight emptiness in her heart and the feeling of having lost something, but content and safe – and _alive_, nonetheless. She will, however, remember nothing of who she was, of her past life and even of you. It will be to her as if the life of Ina McCalman was nothing more than a dream.'

Once again she looked down at the older woman's face, but now she took in the peacefulness. Could she deny her that? Could she deny her Aunt a life like that, where she was safe and content? She knew that she never wanted to see her like that evening again and knew that at this point it was mere selfishness that kept her from deciding. Their shared memories, their love for one another, all gone. It would be, like professor Dumbledore had said, as if she'd never existed. 'Do it.'

No words were spoken after that, as either waited for the older woman to wake up. Daisy tried not to think of what it meant, but the tears ended up sliding down her cheeks anyway. She tried to remind herself of what she would be giving her Aunt – safety, happiness – but could only think of what she herself would be losing.

Soft moaning drifted up from the woman in the hospital bed and Daisy turned her head to her. Gripping her Aunt's hand a little tighter, she forced herself to smile through the tears. 'Hello Auntie, how are you feeling?'

'A little sore, but I'll manage,' she looked around the room, then at professor Dumbledore, and her eyebrows drew together in confusion. 'Where are we? What are we..' Realization flashed behind her eyes and she instantly withdrew within herself.

'We are at the hospital, Aunt Ina. But you will be shortly released and everything will be all right.. I promise.' Her voice broke then. 'There's just one thing I need to know. I know this is hard for you, but you need to tell me who they were.'

Her Aunt was trembling again, shaking her head. 'I-I can't.'

'Please,' Daisy begged, not releasing the hold on her Aunt's hand. 'I promise never to speak of this again.'

Ina opened her eyes slowly then, her fearful eyes locking onto her niece's. 'T-t-they were dressed in black a-and wore masks. O-o-one of them, the one who.. they called him Lucius.'

'Thank you, Aunt Ina,' she hugged the fragile older woman, desperate not to let the new wave of tears show.

When Daisy pulled back at last, her Aunt seemed to have regained some sense of calm to her and gently stroked her niece's cheek. 'My bairn,' she spoke softly 'my wee bairn. I love you so very much.'

'I love you too, Aunt Ina.'

Neither of them noticed when the figure in the corner lifted his wand.

But in the next moment, Ina McCalman was gone.


	49. Chapter 48

**AN: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed your Easter weekend (if you celebrated it) or just your weekend in general. Mine was quite busy, so I didn't really have time to work on this until this evening. A big thank you to _FangedMe _and _Guest _for reviewing, I love you 3. Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 48

It had been over two and a half years since that day, yet Daisy could still remember every word of the conversation that had followed next.

They had solemnly exited the room and had continued to stroll the hallways together in silence. For once, she had allowed herself to grief; over what once was and over what would never be. Even though professor Dumbledore had not said it yet, Daisy had known things would never be the same again.

It was many minutes before her fiery hatred had broken through her grief and, with tears still fresh on her cheeks, she'd turned to her Headmaster. 'I'm going to kill him,' she'd spoken calmly, yet determinedly. 'And then I'm going to kill Voldemort.'

Professor Dumbledore had not at all seemed perturbed by her words, not even mildly surprised. Yet, his next words seemed to have just that effect on her. 'You can't.'

'I can't? I'm the Conductor, damn it, one of the strongest of magical beings! I could _crush _him if I so very well please, I could make him _beg_ for a release of his miserable existence. And as a matter of fact; I think I _bloody_ well will.'

He shook his head. 'Do not let your hatred blind your judgment, Daisy. It doesn't do to let emotions determine our actions. Remember, emotions are there to guide us; not control us.'

'He deserves to be killed! For what he did to my Cedric, to my Aunt... to my Uncle!'

'Indeed, he does. But not by you.' At her confused stare, he'd continued. 'Prophesy speaks of a boy born at the end of July; a boy said to be marked as Voldemort's equal.'

'Harry..'

'Exactly. And in light of recent events, I am afraid Hogwarts is no longer safe – for you _or _those around you. To protect you and those you care for, you must disappear. For all the world, it must be like you vanished off the face of the earth. To do this, we will hide you in the one place no one will ever care to look.'

She turned from the window and away from the slowly awakening town. Soon, people would be out on the street, opening their shops or going to work elsewhere. They would start their lives and with that.. end hers. She would resume cleaning the rooms, would busy herself reorganizing the book cases, take stock of the barrels of Butterbeer, look up new recipes for the tavern – and all of that without magic. Anything to make the day seem less endless.

In the last two and a half year, Daisy had learned to enjoy waking up early, because it permitted her to sit quietly by the window for a bit. She had learned to enjoy the silence, because it meant that she was allowed to wander the building freely. She had learned that everything comes at a price and that the price of safety is very, _very_ high, indeed.

After having made sure she had closed the curtains completely, Daisy wandered over to her bed, picking up the photo album from her nightstand. Along with the Muggle camera, it had been the only thing professor Dumbledore had allowed her to take from her Aunt and Uncle's home and therefore she cherished it dearly. Often times when she would fall between chores – or it would, socially acceptable, be too early to start – she would pick up the album; the one link she still had to her past. She regretted she had not taken the effort of making more pictures.

There was another thing that made her tidy the already pristine rooms once again: if the boredom wasn't driving her mad, the overwhelming regret was sure to. Over the years, the list had steadily grown. Small things that kept nagging at her during the day, but also big things that kept her awake at night. She regretted not thanking Hermione for looking out for her at Hogwarts, she regretted taking Amanda's friendship for granted, she regretted not being more respectful to her professors. But most of all, when she'd once again experience one of her sleepless nights, she'd regret not staying at home that first day of the summer holidays all those years ago. She'd regret not being there when the Death Eaters came, not being there to save them.

And sometimes, when the nights would drag on exceptionally long, she would think back on Draco Malfoy and she would regret her actions against him, too. She would regret yelling at him. And more so; she would regret never apologising for it.

For if there was one thing that she'd learned, it was that professor Dumbledore had been right all those years ago during the last time she had seen him. It doesn't do to let emotions determine our actions. Because apart from learning to enjoy the smallest moments of freedom, Daisy had also learned to reign in her sharp tongue, to think before speaking and, above all, that every action has a reaction. And it left her wondering what her life would have looked like had she but acted differently.

A small sliver of daylight had managed to slip through the drawn curtains and alerted Daisy that the morrow had finally arrived. She carefully replaced the photo album on the nightstand and left the room without another glance. Wandering down the hall, she stopped short of the staircase and sat down on the uppermost step. Ever since last summer, she was strictly forbidden to go down to the tavern, no matter what time of the day. Indeed, a lot had changed since that summer.

The inn's visitors had become scarcer, further in between and – if at all possible – even more shady. A curfew had been placed over the village and was strictly adhered to by all who did not wish to fall into the hands of Dementors or (perhaps even worse) Death Eaters. Those who did wander out at night, well.. it was best not to cross their path.

A loud knock on the front door snapped her out of her thoughts and Daisy peered down at the darkened tavern. In response to the knocking, a light sprung to life in the darkness and she noticed a figure moving towards the door.

Soon, it was pulled open and garish morning light streamed into the shady tavern. The figure extinguished his wand and then spoke, seemingly not at all effected by the two obscure individuals on his doorstep. 'What are you doing here at this hour?! Was scaring away all of my customers not enough for you? Must you now also disturb my sleep? No respect you have, no..-'

'Quiet, old man,' one of the figures, whose face she could not make out in the distance, interrupted. 'We ought to cut your tongue out for disrespecting those who serve the Dark Lord. I'm getting quite tired of your..-'

'MacNair,' the other broke him out of his ranting, then turned back to the old tavern owner. 'Anything to report? Seen or heard anything about those still on the run?'

'Nothing at all – as usual.'

'Are you sure, old man?' MacNair hissed lowly, taking a step closer to him. 'You know the punishment for opposing the Dark Lord.'

'I haven't seen a customer in ages. Do you really think one of your fugitives just happens to walk into my tavern for a glass of Butterbeer? Nitwitted, brainless..-'

'All right, all right, that's enough for today. Just make sure you are inside before curfew.'

The door slammed shut even before the pair had turned on their heel.

MacNair, Daisy mentally added the name to her growing list of Death Eaters. When she'd regain her freedom, she might go to court with them – or whatever equivalent wizards had – and get all of them imprisoned for life. _If_ she got out. She sighed deeply and pushed herself up from the floor. Today was going to be a long day.

She didn't get very far though, before a hand wrapped around her upper arm and forced her around. 'What are you still doing out on the hallways, you silly girl?!' He chastised her, then herded her back to her room. Today was going to be a long day, indeed.

* * *

**AN: So, anyone have an idea what the 'safe house' is that Daisy has been brought to? Someone? Anyone? Let me know in a review! Also, constructive criticism and feedback is always welcome!**


	50. Chapter 49

**AN: Hello everyone! Hope you've all had a nice weekend. Big thank you to _Guest, JustAFangirl _(the last part is for you (; ) and _Shayde F. Revelle_ for reviewing. What a smart audience I have! Now, on with the story!**

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Chapter 49

They ate in silence that night. Contrary to what one might think on first glance, however, it was not because the old man was angry with Daisy. No, he never got angry. Just upset for a moment, before reverting back to his quiet, grumpy self. For that reason, dinner was always a quiet affair at the inn. Although naturally not one for silence, in the long years she had spent in his company, Daisy had learned to accept and even appreciate the quiet. Somehow, ever since she'd left Hogwarts, she had lost much of her fiery temper and, indeed, much of her lust for life in general.

Not particularly wanting to dwell on those dangerous thoughts, Daisy took the moment to study the man sitting across from her. He was tall and thin, and had long grey hair and a matching beard. He had once revealed to her in one of their scarce and short conversations that he'd become barman of the inn somewhere around "the turn of the century". Guessing that he'd meant the nineteenth century, that would make him over a hundred years old. The thought had baffled her, but then another thought had presented itself to her which, when she looked at the man again, suddenly had not seemed as unlikely anymore: what if he'd meant the turn of the eighteenth century? She hadn't asked and they'd never crossed the subject again.

His bright blue eyes, hidden behind the dirty lenses of his spectacles, had a habit of not quite meeting hers and would often, when he thought she wasn't looking, linger on the portrait of a young girl which hid a secret passage to Hogwarts from view.

In the first few days that she'd come to live with him, Daisy had thought she'd figured the old man out well enough. He was quiet, grumpy and blunt, often times to the point of being rude. His speech would often be laced heavily with sarcasm and cynicism and that seemed to very much determine his outlook on life as well. Indeed, it seemed like the man did not care for life at all. But when she'd first caught his lingering stare at the portrait, she'd known that particular observation had not been quite right. The softening of his eyes was unmistakable, the prolonged gaze which even he did not seem to be aware of at times, it was all very clear to her now. Whoever the girl in the portrait had been, it was clear that she'd meant a great deal to him – and still did.

It was a pattern of behaviour Daisy recognized but all too well in herself. She, too, could stare for minutes, even hours, at the frozen faces of her Aunt and Uncle in her photo album, tracing their well-known features, sometimes even talking to them as if they would still be there. It was the behaviour of someone who had lost a part of his heart and was never quite able to heal it.

Then, there were moments when he would turn those alarmingly blue eyes on her, at times seemingly looking _through_ her and it would be impossible to deny that Aberforth Dumbledore was quite similar to his brother, in more ways than one. He would not thank her for such an observation, however, and so she kept it to herself, tucking it away with all of the other questions she had never dared to ask.

'Any news?' She asked casually. It was a laden question because the answer was never good. Sometimes, however, it would be enough just not to hear any of her friends' names.

'Nothing that interests you,' he said, glancing up briefly from his plate. Then, as he noticed she was still waiting, he sighed. 'Some man from the Ministry died, Dirk Cresswell. Muggleborn wizard, head of a Department I heard.'

'No students? What about Harry, Ron and Hermione? Any news from them?'

'If those three have any brains between them, they've long fled the country.' He huffed, ready to start one of his long rants, when movement caught his eye and he looked at the painting. He had not even noticed her leave. Now, Ariana was already on her way back. And she was not alone. 'The Longbottom boy is early tonight. Take your plate and go upstairs.'

'But..- '

'Go, quick!'

Clearing the table of all evidence of her existence, Daisy did as she was told without further argument and slipped out of the small living area. Instead of moving up the stairs, however, she slumped down against the wooden door, placing her unfinished plate carefully beside her.

'You're early, Mr. Longbottom,' Aberforth said brusquely, as a way of greeting.

'I didn't mean to interrupt your dinner, Mr. Dumbledore. Are the food packs ready?' He sounded so much more older, so much more mature than she remembered him, she thought mournfully. She had missed out on so much.

'Prepared them this afternoon, they're out there under the sink.'

Daisy had to hold in a scoff, given that it was in actuality _her_ who had spent the better part of the afternoon preparing food. Admitted, it would by no means be comparable to the food served in the Great Hall (or the food that used to be served there, anyway), but for an empty stomach, it would be just as welcome.

Some bustling in the living area told her that Neville had made his way over to the sink 'Thank you, sir'. Then, his footsteps moved back towards the other side of the room and soon, all was quiet again.

Closing her eyes, she let out a deep sigh. How she wished that she could have gone out to him. Even though Neville and she had never been particularly close, it would have been nice to see someone – anyone. He might have been able to tell her more about how her friends were doing.. if they were even still alive.

Sighing once again, she got to her feet, thinking that if Aberforth found her disobeying his orders for the second time that day, there would be no stopping his never-ending rant. With her plate in hand, she silently went up the stairs, back to her room.

Despite the relatively good news – or rather; the absence of bad news – Daisy found that her appetite had left her after the sudden disruption of her dinner. Hearing Neville had only made her desire to see her school friends increase and made it all the more difficult to just sit idly by and do nothing. Professor Dumbledore had told her many years ago that it would be safer for all involved if she stayed hidden. But what if he was wrong?

She picked up the photo album more out of habit than anything else and flipped absent-mindedly through the pages, looking for a clue, a sign.. anything that might guide her at this point. It was at that moment, when she flipped yet another photograph-filled page, that a small, folded piece of paper fell out. Gingerly picking it up, Daisy opened it to a familiar message. Instead of reading through the entire letter as she usually did, however, her eyes fell onto the second last sentence.

"I trust that you will do what is right in the end, my darling daughter."

* * *

Draco didn't quite remember the last time he felt remotely good. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt anything.

The last year had blurred into one, dark haze that consisted of bad moments, and moments that followed him into his nightmares. He remembered one of his former professors, Charity Burbage, hanging unconsciously above his family's dining table, he remembered torturing Thorfinn Rowle on Voldemort's orders. He remembered all of these things, yet at the same time could remember none. They felt unreal, much like the rest of the world had seemed to him lately. He had lost his interest in Quidditch, in doing well in his subjects. When he looked around, all he could see was death and pain and ruin.. and couldn't help but feel that it was his fault.

And knowing that it actually was destroyed him.


	51. Chapter 50

**AN: Hi guys! Welcome to the 50th chapter of The Conductor. I am so proud of us for getting this far, thank you for your never-ending support! A special thanks to _JustAFangirl_ for her amazing review (of course she's going to poof straight into disaster haha!) and _Guest_! Now, on with the story and don't forget to review! (;**

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Chapter 50

In the next month, Daisy planned her escape – quietly and most of all, carefully. She did not know where she would go, or what she would do, but she knew that she could not stay locked up in the tavern any longer. Aberforth Dumbledore was not a fool, however, and she knew that if she were to be successful, she would need careful preparation and no small amount of luck.

And so she spent her days mostly in silence, working through her chores as quickly as possible so that she might use the remaining time to work on her plan. Roughly, she had divided her to-do list in three, main tasks.

Firstly, there were the things she needed to obtain. Her first concern here had been to gather enough provisions, both food and water, in case she would go somewhere were either – or both – were scarce. It was a tricky business obtaining them, however, as Aberforth was as watchful as an eagle and sharper than he let on. On one night she had crept down to the tavern and had taken a small loaf of bread and a slice of cheese from the storage room. She had not made it to the stairs before the light went on and Aberforth, in dressing gown, had demanded to know what she was doing. He had accepted her lie of a quick evening snack easily enough, but it had made Daisy realise that she needed to be more careful in the future.

Second on her list – and perhaps only a little lower on her priorities – was researching useful spells. She knew that she would need to brush up on her knowledge of magic were she to survive even a day out in the dangerous world of today. But apart from spells for survival, Daisy had quickly realised that she would probably need even more powerful spells to actually make it out of the inn.

In the last month, visits from Death Eaters had been more and more common and two of them had even insisted on a house search. On these occasions, Aberforth had sent an inconspicuous look in the direction of the staircase, knowing she was never far away when there was any chance of news to be heard, and she had silently slipped back to her room. During the first of these visits, she had quickly scrambled through her the chamber, gathering all personal items before stuffing them into her closet. Then, she'd herself crawled underneath the bed. She had waited several minutes in complete stillness, listening as the Death Eaters' heavy footfalls stomped up the stairs. The first door had been thrown open rather harshly and she could easily hear as the two followers of the Dark Lord inspected the room – all the while complaining loudly about anything and everything – before they exited again. This went on for three more rooms, until at last they would come to hers. Daisy held her breath as the last door to her left was closed, keeping her eyes fixed on the small strip of the door that was still visible to her eyes. She heard their footsteps pound to her room.. and then past it.

Afterwards, Aberforth had explained that her bedroom could not be found, unless someone knew where it was. It was a nifty piece of spellwork and Daisy was quite certain it was Dumbledore's handwork – either of them, anyway.

Since such a complicated spell had been placed over her room to keep others out, Daisy could not imagine that some sort of precaution had not been taken to keep her in. Therefore she had rejected her first instinct to climb out of her window because.. well, it seemed just a little _too_ easy.

Third on her list, and by chance also the easiest of the three, was gathering information. She didn't fancy the idea of escaping just to run right into the hands of Death Eaters and so she knew that if she wanted to have any chance of making it, she needed to be up to date. Although by far the easiest of the three, it was still no small feat to get truthful information in a time where even the media was controlled by the Dark Side. She had taken to listening to the pirate radio, Potterwatch, at night which – although a little satiristic at times – at least provided her with an honest account on what was going on. Apart from that and the completely biased stories that littered the_ Daily Prophet_ that Aberforth sometimes read, her only other source of information was Neville Longbottom.

He would come to the tavern at least once a week, depending on the amount of trouble he'd gotten himself in. If they had been any lighter times and her own spirits had been a little less low, she might have wondered at the enormous difference between this young man and the scared, insecure boy she had come to know at school. As it were, however, she could only be happy that someone had taken the role of leader in Harry's absence.

By the end of the first week of planning, Daisy had become more sensitive to movements in the portrait than Aberforth and would often jump up from her seat before he would even realise what was going on. Without another word, she would take her plate and leave the room, only to sit down on the other side of the door to listen in.

Most of the days, nothing really interesting was said between the two men. Aberforth wasn't very talk active most of the time – and not nearly as inquisitive as Daisy wished him to be at those times – and would mostly just reply to anything Neville might say. Neville, in his turn, seemed to gloss over the horrid details of what went on at the school and only rarely mentioned incidents. When he did once, she almost wished he hadn't.

'What's happened to your face, boy?' Aberforth had grumbled in his usual voice, though through years of practice Daisy had been able to detect a hint of worry.

'This? Oh, this is nothing in compare to the others.' A moment of silence followed and she could just imagine Aberforth giving him a look that clearly told him to continue. 'Apparently, Alecto Carrow was unsatisfied with our efforts in Muggle Studies. Gave both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs a good whipping, she did.'

Daisy's chest had constricted at that and she could only hope the two men had not heard her sharp intake of breath. What if Amanda had been among them? Was she all right? There were so many questions whirling through her mind that she wanted to ask Neville, but she bit her tongue. She couldn't ask and Neville wouldn't tell. That was the last she'd heard about Hufflepuffs.

It was a Friday evening when she was finally ready. In her closet, hidden behind some old-fashioned robes, was enough food stored to last her a week, along with bottles of Butterbeer and water for twice that time. In an old Transfiguration book she had found a spell to change a piece of clothing into a bag and with some practice on the old robes in her closet, she had finally managed to transfigure herself a sturdy backpack. That week they had had more visits from Death Eaters as usual and during dinner, Aberforth had mentioned that he was quite tired and was going to tuck in early for the night.

Daisy waited impatiently as the trudging in the room down the hallway finally came to a stop and another moment before she concluded that Aberforth must have laid down at last.

She checked the contents of her bag once again and after having reassured herself that all was there, she quietly creeped towards the doorway. A silencing charm muffled the sound of the normally squeaking door and another caused her feet to fall onto the carpet without a sound. She hurried down the hallway, making sure to be a little more careful as she passed the old man's room, and tip-toed down the stairs – making sure to avoid the creaking boards.

Despite the complete darkness of her surroundings, Daisy did not dare to light her wand as she entered the tavern, fearing that it might draw more attention to her than she cared for at the moment. Therefore, she was extra careful when she maneuvered around tables and chairs, knowing that every misstep could mean the end of her escape.  
When she finally got to the door, she lifted her wand again. 'Finite Incantatem,' she whispered softly.

When nothing noticeable happened, she tried again, whispering the words a little more forcibly. She was sure the spell should work, as she had practiced it several times before. After two more tries, she gave up, hoping that whatever protection enchantments had been placed were now lifted.

Readjusting the strap of her backpack a little, Daisy took a deep breath and – with the fingers of her free hand crossed – spoke the incantation of the Unlocking Spell.

A soft, almost inaudible click could be heard from the door, before it sprung from its lock. As she took hold of the door knob, Daisy could almost not believe it. She had done it! She was free! Pushing the door open, she was ready to step out of the inn and out of her almost three-year prison.

And that's when the screaming started.


	52. Chapter 51

**AN: Hello guys! Welcome back. (: A big thank you to _JustAFangirl_ (I hope this chapter clears some of your questions up. And yes, she is running into a hot mess; as usual haha) and _ FangedMe_. This one's for you!**

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Chapter 51

A moment passed before Daisy recognised the sound as the Caterwauling Charm, and she mentally cursed herself. With all her careful planning, she had completely forgotten about the charm. How could she be so stupid?

Stumbling could already be heard from the upper floor and she knew that it would be mere moments before Aberforth would come down to see what was going on. And she couldn't be here when he arrived.

She chanced a last glance back into the tavern, the tavern that had been her home for the past three years, before she darted into the alley.

She didn't get far, for as soon as she came to the corner, the sound of frantic shouts reached her ears and she recognised two of the voices as belonging to Crabbe and Goyle, two of the Death Eaters who had searched the house on one occasion – and as it so happened; also were the fathers of two of her former classmates. By the sound of it they, too, had been drawn from their beds by the Caterwauling charm.

Whipping out her wand, Daisy quickly casted a Disillusionment charm on herself, watching as – along with the sensation of an egg being cracked on her head – her body blended into the brink wall behind her.

She hadn't even the time to put her wand away, for not a moment later, one, two, then three figures rushed past her into the alley, hitting a dead end. As they turned and their faces were illuminated by the moon, her mouth nearly fell open in surprise.

'Oh no! Now what?!' One of them, a ginger, lanky boy said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Daisy cautiously crept closer to them, hoping not to startle them and cause even more noise. Realisation washed over her that it had not been her setting off the alarm; it had been them!

She had her wand poised in mid-air, ready to lift the enchantment, when the door to her right suddenly swung open and Aberforth appeared. 'In here, Potter,' he urged, stepping aside to allow them entrance.

For a moment, he looked in her direction, seemingly at her, and she was glued in place. After the trio had rushed in, she was about to follow when the old man's gaze moved from where she stood and his eyes narrowed at their new object of perception.

'Out again, old man? One would begin to think you need a lesson in obedience.'

One of the Death Eaters, Crabbe, stood so near that Daisy could feel the warmth of his body and she pressed herself even closer to the wall. He would only need to turn his head and notice that something was off about the brick wall and it would be over. She could only pray he didn't.

Both of them exuded a dark, terrifying aura that spoke of promised torture and merciless pain to all those who stood in their path, and suddenly Daisy felt some sort of newfound respect for Aberforth Dumbledore. He had never cowered before them, had never allowed them the pleasure of seeing his fear, but had kept _her_ safe.

'When you're waking up the whole town with that noise, you can't blame me for coming to look what's going on. And I will have to refuse to take you on on that lesson, for unlike you, Goyle, I have no intention to be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's lapdog.'

'How _dare_ yo..-'

He slammed the door shut their faces before the man had a time to finish his threat. And indirectly (and most probably: unknowingly); in her face.

She watched as Crabbe and Goyle muttered some more amongst themselves and then, quiet as a mouse, slipped out of the alley. Then, she broke out in a full sprint, not stopping before she came to the edge of town. It was only then that she dared to breathe again.

She knew Hogwarts was only a small distance from the other side of town, but she also knew that it was closely guarded by Dementors. To go that way would be suicide.  
Therefore, with no other real options at this moment, she turned back to the rocky mountain expanse in front of her and began the climb.

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~ Draco ~

It was near midnight when they came and called them out of bed. Not that he had been sleeping, of course. He had laid staring at his ceiling, just like every night for the past year, forcing his heavy eyelids to remain open, because he could not face what was branded on their insides.

He had dressed in a daze, knowing what this meant, knowing that after tonight nothing would ever be the same. Either for good or bad.

The younger students were led away by Mr. Filch. To safety... to life. Draco wished nothing more than to go with them, but knew that he did not deserve it. He had brought this upon them. It was his fault; he had the Mark to prove it.

As they passed through the halls on their way to the courtyard, he looked around at the one true home he had ever had. Here, he had won his first Quidditch match, had for the first time made a real friend.. fallen in love. It was laughingly little, yet it was all he had. And if he were somehow not to survive tonight, he at least had that.

A part of him – more substantial than even he could admit to himself at that moment – wished for the light side to win. That part wanted a world that was kind, that was good. It wanted a world where students were made to write lines, or clean medals and cups when they got detention, not receive lashings. It wanted a world with petty House rivalries and childish banter, not wars and torture. It wanted a world with halfbloods and muggleborns. Hell, it wanted a world with Weasley and Granger and Potter, for at least that would mean that there was some good left and that there were people that would die fighting to protect it.

The stream of students came to an abrupt stop on the courtyard and he drew one final breath. So it began.

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~ Daisy ~

By some stroke of luck, Daisy had stumbled upon a cavern hidden in the mountain side some ways along her climb. It was moderate in size and by the looks of the ashes and the remains of newspapers in the centre, had been inhabited before. The dates on the newspapers proved that to be a long time ago, though.

That night, she didn't dare to light a fire to keep her warm, nor to provide her with some light in the suffocating darkness that crept up on her from all sides. At times, a paralysing cold would penetrate her stony refuge and for a moment, all happiness would be sucked out of her. But the Dementors never lingered in one place long, and they never found out her hiding place and although she couldn't find rest, she survived. And in times of war, that's all one could really hope for.

In the time that she sat and waited – for _anything_ to happen – or spent paralysed by depression, she thought of the current state of the world, of her own part in it and in a few moments of cautious optimism, of the future.

She did not know why Harry, Ron and Hermione had come this way, but she could only guess that there real objective was Hogwarts. Apart from being happy to see three of her friends alive and well, she could only hope that their arrival would mean the tide was going to turn at last.

The seemingly endless hours of idle waiting came to an end when Daisy suddenly became aware of the absence of the depressing cold. Carefully, she crept out to the entrance of the cave, only to be met by a sight that she had not expected. Out in the distance, she could see a huge semi-transparent, bell-like structure form around Hogwarts castle, the white light in sharp contrast with the black night.

So it had begun.

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**AN: For those of you wondering: yes she is is in Sirius' cave (;. Let me know what you think!**


	53. Chapter 52 - part one

**AN: Hello guys! I hope you've all had a fantastic weekend! I've decided to cut chapter 52 in two pieces, as it was simply too long for one update and well.. they did it with the movies as well, haha. Anyways, because it does actually count as chapter 52, I will upload the second chapter on Wednesday if I get at least 3 reviews. Big thanks to _ Guest _and _JustAFangirl_ for their reviews! Enjoy!**

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Chapter 52 - part one

Night had descended full and well by the time Daisy's feet met even ground. It had been more difficult to find the way down with only the light of the moon to guide her and she had not dared to light her wand, fearing it would attract unwanted attention to her person.

Moving into the direction of the castle, she took care to keep a large distance between herself and Hogsmeade and steered clear from the road at all times. Although the battle had clearly already begun, she had no desire to run into any latecomers. Therefore, she kept close to the mountain expanse until she had passed the front gates, before cautiously crossing the road and slipping into the safe confines of the Forbidden Forest.

As Daisy moved, she tried not to pay any attention to the eerie, almost foreboding silence that closed in on her from all sides. There was no wind that night, no hooting of owls or chirping of crickets. It was as if even the animals were holding their breaths for the outcome of the ongoing battle.

Her next steps brought her into a circle of damaged trees, several of them having parts of their trunk missing, others only having bark skived off. It was because of this first sign of battle that she almost didn't see the man lying in the middle of the chaos.

Forgetting all thought of care and safety, Daisy rushed forward and kneeled down next to him. Her disillusioned hand shot out to his shoulder and softly shook it. When no response came, she used both of her hands to try to turn him on his back. There, she came face to face with his wide, unseeing eyes and a mouth still opened into a silent scream.

Appalled, she pulled her hand back from the dead body. Whoever he had been, friend or foe, he had never even made it to the site of battle.

A twig snapped behind her and she looked up only just in time to see a beam of green light heading her way. On instinct, she threw herself to the ground, the spell only missing her by an inch before it hit the tree behind her. Before she even had time to register what was going on, a second spell was fired at her and she rolled to the side. Grabbing hold of her backpack, Daisy quickly scrambled to her feet and made for the darkness of the inner forest. By now, her Disillusionment charm had worn off and she was practically naked in the eye of the predator on her trail. Another tree was blown to pieces as she dodged another beam of light and she chanced a look over her shoulder to notice not one, but two men only a mere ten feet behind her. And that's when it happened.

Her left foot somehow caught on a protruding tree root and Daisy faltered slightly before she regained her footing. In that small moment of chaos, she had not noticed the spell coming her way and was hit square in the back. The force of the spell blew her from her feet, making her sail a couple of yards through the air before she fell face-first into the damp forest floor.

The force of her landing had apparently knocked her out for a few seconds, for the next thing she heard was the sound of voices coming from above her.

'.. do you think she was doing here?'

'Probably one of them students, trying to escape.'

'She's the first one to do so.. Don't you think..-'

'I don't care what her reasoning was, Gregory. She's dead, isn't she? Let's get back to the Dark Lord, else he punishes us for tardiness.'

Dead? The thought circled around in her head for a while, being unable to link it to any memory. She didn't feel particularly dead. Then again, she had never been before, so she really had no idea of recognising the sensation of being dead.

Footsteps could soon be heard leading away from her and when she could no longer hear any sound, Daisy dared to lift her head. When she indeed concluded that they were gone, she pushed herself up from the ground completely, pulling her bag – which had landed some few feet away – towards her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the possibility began to dawn that perhaps, she was not dead. After all, she was still very much corporeal, judging from the fact that she could sit on the ground and hold her bag, and there seemed to be no sign of a body except for the one that she currently inhabited. Then, a vague memory from many years ago drifted up. _"It means you cannot be killed. __Not by magic at least."_ For once, Daisy was glad for Hermione's bookishness.

She did not wait for that realisation to sink in, nor to completely wrap her mind about the concept of being untouchable – at least to magic. Instead, she pulled herself up by a tree and when her legs had finally stopped shaking, moved into the direction she thought the Death Eaters had left for.

By the time she reached a small hill her mind finally seemed to kick back to life and so she cast another Disillusionment charm over herself. Then, leaving her bag there out of fear of making noise, she crawled up the side of the hill. From her position between the large tree roots, she had a perfect view on the scene that was playing out in the clearing below.

The small crowd, all dressed in black were standing in silence, as if waiting for something. Among them Daisy recognised several of the Death Eaters that had come by the Hog's Head Inn, mentally putting a name to their faces. Then, her gaze fell upon a figure who did not seem to fit in and her heart seemed to stop for a moment when she realised it was Hagrid. He was bound by thick ropes and kept in place by several of the black dressed figures. As far as Daisy could see, he did not appear to be harmed, but she could only wonder for how long that would last.

Next, a flash of pale blonde caught her attention and she turned her eyes on the person of Lucius Malfoy and a woman with black and white hair, who she could only guess to be his wife. Only.. he did not look at all like the man she had seen all those years ago as Malfoy's Boggart. This man looked thin, his cheeks hollow and his eyes lying deep in their sockets. Underneath those grey eyes – who reminded her all too much of someone else – were purple bruises, making him look as if he had not slept in a very long time.

'No sign of him, my Lord,' a man spoke and she turned her head to him. She recognised his voice as belonging to one of the Death Eaters who had chased her down the wood and was surprised to find the boasting confidence that had given sound to his voice mere minutes ago, was now replaced with a fearful undercurrent.

The figure to whom he had spoken, a tall, hairless, emaciated figure, did not respond at first. Instead, he walked a couple of paces away from the group, his face now entering Daisy's line of vision. A shiver ran down her spine at the visage of it, instinctively knowing that this could be no one other than the Dark Lord himself. His skin was almost translucent, every vein in his face as clear as if they lay up and not under the skin. His eyes were red slits and he had snake-like slit nostrils. All in all, he looked more like a monster, than a man.

'I thought he would come,' he at last said, his voice that of the fabric of her nightmares, to the woman that had followed him.

Daisy wondered briefly of whom he could be talking, but then a figure appeared at the other end of the clearing. From her position, she at first could not make out the identity of the newcomer, only that he was dressed in Muggle attire and seemed to hold no hesitation in appearing in front of the Dark Lord. A sickening feeling of foreboding came over her and she prayed she was wrong.

'Harry, no! What are you doing here?' Hagrid called out and for the second time in only a few minutes, her heart stopped.

'Quiet!'

In the meanwhile, Harry had stopped some few meters away from Voldemort, staring him straight in the eye. She wanted to rush down to him, tell him to run, to hide, but her body felt like it was glued into place. All she could do was watch as the scene below her unfolded, the sense of foreboding growing stronger by the second.

'Harry Potter,' the Dark Lord broke the silence at last, sounding himself as he could not quite believe that Harry had come. 'The boy who lived.. has come to die.'

The raven haired boy did not answer. In fact, he did nothing at all, even when Voldemort started to raise his wand. In the background, a monstrous snake came slithering into the clearing. Raise your wand Harry, Daisy thought fervently, defend yourself! But he did no such thing.

'Avada Kedarva!'

Green light engulfed the clearing. Then, when it receded, Harry's body lay motionless on the floor. The boy who lived, lived no more.

On the other side, Voldemort had ended up on the forest floor as well. Brushing off the woman who was anxiously flitting around him, he got to his feet.

The woman with black and white hair whom she had guessed to be Mrs. Malfoy previously, cautiously moved over the unmoving body of Harry, while the rest of the group all took a step closer.

The woman who had just been rudely shoved away by the Dark Lord was now again by his side, looking more tense than before. 'The boy, is he dead?'

Mrs. Malfoy crouched down, seemingly inspecting him for any signs of life. Then, she stood and turned to the expectant group with an empty face. She spoke only one word; one that meant almost certain victory to the Dark side and the loss of all hope for the others.

'Dead.'


	54. Chapter 52 - part two

**AN: Hello! As I'd promised, I would upload the second part of Chapter 52 if I got 3 reviews. So to all my readers: big thank you for _JustAFangirl_ ****(sorry, I didn't want to spoil it for you!), _sanna11_ ******and _Guest_; they made this chapter update possible. Now, on with the story and please let me know what you think. I'll just end with saying: SORRY SO MUCH IN ADVANCE!****

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Chapter 52 - part two

It wasn't long before the group below started moving again.

When he'd recovered from the fact that he had finally beaten his arch-nemesis – and the physical blow he had been dealt seemingly as a consequence of that – Voldemort ordered his followers to go back to the castle. Poor Hagrid was ordered to carry the lifeless body of his former student and Daisy watched with a heavy heart as they filed out of the clearing.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was dead. Although the odds had never really been in their favour to begin with, what chance did they have now that the person who was supposed to beat Voldemort had died?

The cowardly part of her – a small, yet existing part – told her to just turn around. If she would go to Hogwarts, she would surely get killed. And what for? If Voldemort chose to wipe the entire place out, what good could one person do?

Yet, could she leave her friends, her former classmates, her teachers, to their deaths? Could she turn her back on them when they needed help most?

As she found herself standing up from her hiding place, Daisy realised that she had at some level always known the answer to that question. Even if it meant going against her reason, her judgment and even her own safety; Daisy knew that she would die for each and every one of them if it meant keeping them safe. Too many had died already, too many that she couldn't save.

Her feet found even ground and before she could really think much on what she was doing, she cast another Disillusionment Charm and made for the castle. She left her backpack at the bottom of the hill, knowing that it would probably be safer here than whatever chaos she was heading into.

She quickly caught up with the group of Death Eaters by the edge of the forest. Daisy kept herself hidden behind a tree until most of the group had stepped onto the stone bridge, Voldemort, with the enormous snake and Hagrid at his side, leading them towards an open courtyard.

At the same time as them, students and teachers alike slowly started trickling in, each looking more rugged than the other. At their head was none other than Neville Longbottom, looking worse than she had ever seen him.

Voldemort took a moment to take in the scene of ruin in front of him, before he gestured dramatically to the boy in Hagrid's arms. 'Harry Potter is dead!'

Somewhere at the forefront, a girl started screaming. Even though the years had changed all of them, Daisy recognised her in a heartbeat. Her heart ached at the anguished screams and she realised that she would have felt sorry – even for Ginny Weasley – if she herself were not so overcome by hopelessness at that moment.

Voldemort quickly silenced her, then continued with a shake of his head. 'Stupid girl, Harry Potter is dead. From this day forth, you put your faith in me.' Then, as if he had already forgotten about the small interruption, he turned his back on the crowd of students and walked back to his Death Eaters. 'Harry Potter is dead!'

This caused some laughter to erupt from the group of dark witches and wizards and Daisy felt her stomach turn at the sound. How could they laugh about the death of an innocent boy?

'Now is the time to declare yourself,' Voldemort continued, spreading his arms to the circle of students 'Come forward and join us.' Following his gaze, she quickly found Ron and Hermione, who stood close behind Neville, and a group of red-haired people who she could only guess were the rest of the Weasleys. At least they had survived. 'Or die.'

All remained silent for a moment, even after Voldemort's threat.

'Draco,' it suddenly sounded and all looked to see as Lucius Malfoy turned to a face in the crowd 'Draco.'

Her heart lurched when she looked at him; his hair looking unkempt, his face paler than she remembered. When he did not step forward, a tiny bit of hope started within her.

'Draco,' his mother now pleaded, her eyes desperate 'Come.'

And he did. With slow, hesitant steps he left the group of students, joining the Death Eaters.

At this point, she turned away. She did not want to see him anymore, could not bear the disappointment that weighed her down just by thinking of him.

It was the sound of Voldemort's voice that reminded her of the situation at hand. 'Well, I must say I'd hoped for better,' he said mockingly, causing another round of laughter from the Death Eaters.

Daisy looked up, only just in time to see the three Malfoys, now clinging to each other for dear life, move her way. She wanted to follow them, hurt them for all the times the family had wronged her. And not just her; everyone. She wanted to see Lucius Malfoy crawling on the ground for what he had done. And Draco… him she just never wanted to see again.

'And who might you be, young man?' Voldemort continued behind her, but her eyes were still trained on the retreating backs of the Malfoy family.

'Neville Longbottom.'

That voice caught her attention and she turned to see Neville hobble forward. He did not look scared and with blood still coated to one side of his face, standing but a few meters away from the darkest wizard of all times, he looked fiercer than she had ever seen him before. Even in the face of the Death Eaters' laughter, he did not look down.

'Well Neville, I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ran-'

'I'd like to say something.'

Voldemort did not look pleased at another interruption, but was curious enough to let him speak. 'Well Neville, I'm sure we'd all be fascinated by what you have to say.'

He didn't at first, looking around the circle of Death Eaters, staring each straight in the eye. When he spoke, he started a spark of hope in all of them. 'It doesn't matter that Harry's gone.'

'Stand down, Neville,' someone behind him warned, but he did not listen.

'People die every day! Friends, family.. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he is still with us.. in here,' he touched his heart at this. 'So is Fred, Remus, Tonks; all of them. They didn't die in vain.' Now, he turned back to Voldemort 'But you will, because you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us; for all of us. It's not over!' With that, he pulled a silver sword out of a hat he'd been carrying, brandishing it in front of him and pointing it dangerously at Voldemort.

Gasps sounded and Daisy quickly realised it was not because of Neville's sword, when an incantation was shouted and a ball of fire shot out towards Voldemort's monstrous snake.

A boy, with raven hair and round glasses – with a lightning scar that she would surely have seen if he'd been closer to her or moving any slower – jumped behind a pillar. And the manhunt began.

Voldemort's face, which only moments ago had still been morphed into a gruesome grin, now twisted into one of mad fury and he fired one spell after the other. All around him, Death Eaters were Disapparating now that the Boy-Who-Lived was proved to still be alive, but the Dark Lord didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixed on Harry, who was making a mad sprint for the door to the castle.

It was at this moment, or perhaps the next when a fleeing Death Eater bumped into her, that Daisy remembered that she was not just a spectator, but played an active part in that day's happenings.

'I know you.' She looked up to see the man who had bumped into her, who was in fact the same one that had attempted to kill her. 'You were dead?' He stared at her some more – and by now she realised her Disillusionment Charm must have worn off – and then turned back to stare at Harry Potter. 'They're raising the dead,' he mumbled to himself. Then, without another word, he disappeared in a wisp of black smoke.

Daisy, now fully visible, charged towards the castle, dodging wayward spells as she went. Most of the battle was now fought inside the castle, but there were still some duels taking place out in the courtyard.

Inside, the situation was even more chaotic. Everywhere around her, spells were fired; some finding their target, some missing it by a league and instead crashing into stone pillars or sculptures. She quickly scanned the area, but when she saw none of her friends, she moved on in the direction of the Great Hall. Somewhere on the way, she was nearly crushed by the debris of a wall that caved in. A few steps later, she sent a Death Eater flying into that same debris that had only missed her by a hair. She did not look back at him.

Soon, she reached the anteroom to the Great Hall, where she was brought to a skidding halt by the bright flashes of light that flew back and forth in the room. On one side a thuggish looking Death Eater with dark, slicked back hair and a sickening smile on his face, stood casting Unforgivable Curse after Unforgivable Curse at his opponent, whom she recognised as being none other than Aberforth Dumbledore. Despite his age – and his usually withdrawn personality – he could easily stand his own against the dark wizard.

Daisy watched in amazement as he blocked each Unforgivable with a graceful ease, before firing some spells of his own. They looked evenly matched, with Aberforth clearly being the more skilled dualist, but the Death Eater casting more dangerous spells and therefore making himself a fierce opponent.

She was about to leave when she suddenly saw the older man blown off his feet – and painfully into the stone wall. The Death Eater immediately advanced on him, raising his wand with a Killing Curse ready on his lips.

In a moment of quick thinking, Daisy pointed her wand at the ceiling above him 'Bombarda!' With all the damage already done to the castle, it gave way instantly, debris coming down onto the Death Eater below.

This moment of confusion was all it took for Aberforth to get back on his feet and they shared a look. Then, he nodded.

Daisy did not stand by another moment and quickly ducked into the Great Hall. Here, it seemed the worst battles had already been fought and she noticed most Death Eaters were either dead, unconscious or tied up with magical ropes. Somewhere in the corner she noticed a woman, with trademark red hair, face off against the woman she had first seen in the clearing, where she had been groveling at Voldemort's feet. She smiled wickedly at the ginger woman, all the while taunting and mocking her and Ginny Weasley, who stood behind her.

It was the scene in the other corner, however, that caught her attention. She instantly recognised the mousy brown hair, though the identity of the other student eluded her for a moment.

As she drew nearer, the soft voice of the sitting girl could finally be heard above the loud noises in the Great Hall. 'It's okay, ssh. It's okay.' She combed through the other girl's hair, whose head lay in her lap.

A sickening feeling overcame her, but she forced her legs to move on. When she at last stopped in front of the duo, she felt like she would be sick.

The sitting girl, who she now recognised as Susan Bones – a Hufflepuff from her year – had bruises all over one side of her face, while another big gash lay on her other cheek. Her school robes were torn in places and blood was splattered on the front. She, however, seemed unconcerned with her own injuries at that moment.

The girl in her lap, whom she had recognised as – but begged not to be – Amanda, was paler than the ghosts of Hogwarts. Her eyes, although open, were unfocused and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. What lay below her face, however, was much worse.

Her entire torso was covered in blood and even with the blanket that had been pulled over her, the red life-fluid was desperate to soak through.

Daisy turned her head away it, instead focusing her gaze back on the face of her best friend. She dropped to her knees in front of her, grasping one of the Hufflepuff's cold hands in hers. 'Amanda? I'm here.. I'm back.'

Two tired, hazel eyes turned to her and a weak smile came onto the girl's face. 'Daisy.. I knew you weren't dead. They told me.. they said you'd died. But I didn't believe them.'

She softly squeezed her hand, afraid that anything more would break her. 'You were right. I came back.. And when all of this over, we will.. things will be back to normal.'

Amanda shook her head, her face contorting in pain as she did so. 'I'm not going to make it, Daisy. I just.. I just wasn't strong enough.'

'You fought bravely, Amanda,' Susan said softly, still stroking her hair.

'No,' Daisy said, her voice breaking. 'No, you can't die. You're not dying. I'm here, I came for you. You're not dying. I will save you.'

'I know you will try. But I'm ready.. I'm ready to go on.' She closed her eyes for a moment, then they opened in a moment of clarity. 'Promise me something, Daisy.'

She shook her head, tears running down her face.

'You will. For me.'

'I don't want you to go.'

Amanda smiled sadly 'Neither do I, but sometimes we don't have a choice in where we go. Now.. when all of this is over, promise me you'll tell my parents. Not just my father, but my mother as well. Tell them that I love them.'

That day, Voldemort was defeated and the Second Wizarding War had finally ended. But as it is with all wars, the death toll was high and death did not distinguish between good or bad, guilty or innocent. Many had lost friends, family and realised that although they had gained their freedom, they would never get their lost ones back. They would forever live with that loss, crushed under the weight of knowing they were the lucky survivors. It was like Aberforth had once told her.

Do not pity the dead; pity the living.


	55. Epilogue - part one

**AN: Hi guys! First of all, big thanks to _sakurapetals0192_ and _FangedMe_ (I'm sooooo sorry for Amanda, I know she didn't deserve it!) for their reviews, I love you guys. Also, my other readers should probably be thankful to you as well, or otherwise they wouldn't have been able to read chapter 52, part 2 yet, either. Now, I'm quite sad to announce that this story is almost over. As you may notice, this is the first part of the epilogue; the next (and final) part will be up next week. It's really been a blast and I am so thankful to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed this story; I couldn't have done it without you. Now, on with the story!**

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Epilogue - part one (January 1999)

How do you continue when there's nothing left to live for? How do you hold on when you're all alone in the world? How do you move past the pain and the loss, past the misery and the emptiness, and find yourself in what remains?

It was almost a year since the Battle of Hogwarts and she still did not know the answer to any of those questions. Even now, in a big city, surrounded by strangers and living under a fake identity, Daisy was haunted by the ghosts of her past. Some merely reminded her of the world she had left behind on May the second, 1998, others woke her up in the middle of the night to the sound of her own screaming. Even with the passing of several months, the emptiness had not lessened.

'Can you finish up today, Katrina?'

She nodded absent-mindedly, not looking up from the glass she was wiping. It had been a quiet night at the pub and she had nothing but an empty apartment and a microwave meal waiting for her. Besides, she enjoyed watching the customers, liked to imagine their lives in absence of one of her own.

The next half an hour passed relatively uneventful, with her alternating between wiping glasses and serving drinks to the few lingering customers. The hour was nearing midnight and she knew that soon even the last regulars would stumble back to whatever life they had come here to forget. Then, she could clean the tables, swipe the floor and close up. A five minute walk would bring her to her broomcloset-sized apartment – which was really only the attic of a wealthy old lady – and she would tuck in for another night of nightmares. Tomorrow, all would go on repeat.

'Trina, love, could you fill me up? That's the last one before I'm heading home to the wife,' Patrick Carnville, a regular, grimaced as he held up his empty whiskey glass to her.

She poured him another without a word, knowing that she would probably have to kick him out by closing time – as usual. From what she'd gathered of their mostly one-sided conversations, Patrick was a London banker with more money than he knew what to do with, children that he hardly knew the name of and a wife he could not stand. He usually worked long hours at the office, after which he came to the pub for late dinner and after that, whiskeys until he could no longer tell his left hand from his right. Then, she would have to order him a taxi home. Mrs. Carnville must see very little of her husband, indeed..

She was in the middle of her musings about the helter-skelter life of this particular London banker, not really making any haste in getting him his drink, that the door opened and therefore she did not even notice at first. It was only when the cold January wind hit her bare arms that she looked up, ready to scold whatever dog had come crawling in for a late night drink. And that's when she paused.

Even if she would not have nightmares of him some nights, even if he would not be one of the ghosts – albeit a living one – that haunted her, she would never forget that face. As he stepped further into the pub, visibly shivering from whatever British weather he had just braved, she took in his features in what little light the dim lamps provided.

He had not changed at all. The same platina blonde hair, aristocratic nose, mercury eyes and sharp features. And yet, she thought as she watched as he looked around uncomfortably, he was completely different.

The young man soon spotted the bar she was standing at and she quickly busied herself with wiping an already clean glass. She listened as he dropped himself down on the bar stool, but did not look up. Her mind was in conflict; one part of her wanted to see him. He made her feel, for what might have been the first time in almost a year, anything else than emptiness. For the first time in so long she felt alive. Another part, however, feared confronting such a big part of who she had been. And so, the cowardly part finally winning out, she kept her head down, letting her dyed hair fall as a curtain between them.

'I don't suppose you can offer me anything stronger than a Coke?' He guessed, his voice tired. Her heart jumped at the familiar sound, but she forced herself to sound cool when she responded.

'That would depend on your age, Sir.'

'I know..' He sighed 'Just a Coke, please.'

Daisy put down the glass she had been wiping for the past five minutes and busied her shaking hands with getting him his drink. When she put the bottle and an empty glass on the counter, still avoiding eye contact, she could not help but admire him from up close for a moment. With her mind still half in shock with what was going on, she couldn't help the question that left her mouth. 'Tough day?'

'You couldn't imagine. Apparently my boss thinks I live to serve him, I spilled coffee on my shirt that I have no idea of how to get it out again and then my taxi drove right passed me.'

It surprised her how normal it sounded. Almost _too_ normal.

'I'm sorry,' he said, taking her silence as annoyance. 'I'm sure you have to listen to guys like me complaining about their life all day, Miss..'

'Trina? How about that whiskey I ordered?'

Her head shot up at the sound of her name and she remembered the whiskey she had poured almost fifteen minutes ago. Instead of looking back at Patrick Carnville however, her eyes were drawn by the perplexed look of recognition on Draco Malfoy's face. They held each other's gaze for a moment, then she tore away and looked down awkwardly. Quickly grabbing the glass of whiskey, she hurried past him.

'I'm sorry, Patrick, I completely forgot.'

'It's all right, love,' he smiled, hefting his glass in salute before downing the contents in one swig. Then, he stood and pulled on his dress coat 'Just put it on the bill, will you?'

'Do you want me to order you a cab?'

He shook her helpful attempts off, shaking his head. 'I think I can manage tonight. I'll just leave you two to it.'

Daisy looked around confusedly, only now noticing the pub had emptied over the last quarter of an hour. 'Until tomorrow then.'

'Goodnight, Trina.'

It remained quiet for a moment until the door fell into its lock. 'Trina?'

'I go by Katrina now,' she said simply, as she started collecting the empty glasses.

'Why?'

'It was my Aunt's full name.'

'I meant; why are you here, under a false name, in Muggle London?'

'I could ask you the same question.'

A silence fell over them and she carried her tray with glasses to the bar. Not wanting to stay close to him for long, she took the dish cloth to clean the tables. She was already busy with wiping clean the third table, not expecting any answer of him anymore, when he spoke at last. When he did, she had never expected the words that came out of his mouth.

'The Wizengamot sentenced me to living like a Muggle for a year.'


	56. Epilogue - part two

****AN: Hi guys! Wow I received so many reviews to last week's chapter, it was fantastic! So a big thank you to _Guest, that red head girl 14 _(glad you like it!)_,_ Guest (another one)_, helenbrits74 _(thank you so much for your lovely review! And you're absolutely right about the Killing Curse part of course, I've changed it!) and _JustAFangirl_ (thank you!)_. _Apart from wanting to thank the people that reviewed last week's chapter, I just want to thank everyone in general that helped me write this story. That's of course everyone who has ever reviewed any of the chapters, but also all those of you who have favourited, followed or simply just read the story. You made this possible. Now, for the very last time, on with the story!****

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Epilogue - part two

'Oh...' she broke the silence at last. Somewhere in the last few minutes, she had dropped the dish cloth and had turned to face the young man that still stood by the bar – her bar, in her café, in her new life where she had absolutely no need or wish for him to walk into. Daisy quickly turned back to the table, picking up the cloth. 'I'm sorry.' It sounded mechanical, meaningless. It was the 'I'm sorry' you offer when someone misses their Tube only to get another connection three minutes later; the 'I'm sorry' you offer because it's the polite thing to say, not because you really mean it.

'Yes well, that still doesn't tell me why you're here, though.'

Daisy turned around so fast that her auburn dyed hair hit her in the face and she once again dropped the dish cloth, this time throwing it down on the table. She opened her mouth to tell him off, perhaps threaten with calling the police if he did not move immediately, but was for a moment distracted by the man that stood before her. Man, for he was a boy no longer.

In the last few years, he had managed to fully grow into the person that he was supposed to be. Taller, with a lean figure and the smallest bit of stubble forming on his jawline, yet it was not just age that had changed him. At the Battle of Hogwarts – but even long before that in the time she had known him at school – his face had looked gaunt, his haunted eyes rimmed with red, as if he had not seen a good night's rest in years. Now, although he certainly looked a lot less immaculate, he (for what might be the first time in his life) looked free. And she knew that she could not sent this young man away. 'Not here,' she sighed 'Give me a moment to finish up and we'll go back to my apartment. I've spent ten hours on my feet serving drunk customers and I'm dying to slip into some slippers. Besides, I'll need a glass of wine if I'm going to survive this conversation.'

Fortunately, he did not speak any more whilst she cleaned the remainder of the tables and swiped the floor. In fact, even when they traversed the three streets that would take them to her apartment, he left her to her own thoughts.

When they reached her building, Daisy checked her mailbox out of habit before guiding him up four narrow sets of stairs. She did not apologize for the mess, did not tell him that she could barely drag herself out of bed in the mornings, let alone clean her house. Instead, she dropped her keys and coat on the overloaded old chair by the door, vaguely gesturing for him to do the same. As she'd told him earlier she would do, she kicked of her flats and stepped into her woolen slippers before she moved off into the kitchen area. By the time she had fixed herself a big glass of much deserved red wine, Draco had found himself a seat on her couch, sandwiched between a laundry basket and a pile of books. She did not bother to tell him he could help himself to something to drink if he liked, instead seating herself on the sill of the sole window in her living and kitchen area. 'I know you have a lot of questions,' she spoke slowly, staring down into the red liquid in her glass 'And I suppose it would only be fair of me to answer some of them, given..' She trailed of there, not quite sure how to finish. Given their past? Given everything that had happened? 'I just don't know if I'm ready to tell you.'

He snorted at that and she looked up to see him staring at her in disbelief. 'Not ready? You've been hiding out in the Muggle world for nearly a year, running away from your past. Don't you think it's time you do _something_?'

'I'm not running away.'

'Not? Then what do you call this?' He gestured around himself.

'Living, I call this living! Look, you have no right to judge me or my life. I've lost so much that you can't even begin to..-'

'And I haven't? You think you're the only one who has lost people?'

'No, but..-'

'But my parents and I were on the wrong side of the war, so we don't count?'  
She slammed her glass down on the sill, the red liquid that suddenly reminded her so much of something else sloshing over the edges. 'At least you still have your parents. Mine are dead. And so is my uncle. My aunt is hallway across the country thinking I never existed. My best friend was viciously killed in a battle she should never have been a part of. I have nothing there, nothing to go back to.' Tears were now brimming in the corners of her eyes and she turned her head away from him. 'Magic has cost me everything I held dear in life. It's better if I just keep away from it.'

It was silent for a moment and she feared that she had scared him off – again. 'I thought that too,' he admitted softly, his voice sounding a lot closer than before. She turned to see him standing behind her, his gaze fixed on the city outside her window. 'When I got over the initial reaction to being dropped in this strange world, I thought of how easy it was, how easy it could be. No one in the Muggle world blinks an eye when hearing my last name.. no one knows what I've done. They treat me just like any other man. But I would be running away if I stayed in the Muggle world for the rest of my life; I would stay not because it's nice, but because it's easier than facing my past.'

'What made you change your mind?'

'I am not sure,' he shoved a hand through his hair and turned to look her straight in the eye 'Seeing you tonight, I don't know. I just know that I came to that pub to forget about everything for a while and now I find myself standing in the living room of the girl who might have been my only real friend at Hogwarts, until she told me I was a mistake and then vanished off the face of the earth for a few years, and I realise that it would be wrong to hide from my past.'

'I'm sorry,' She echoed the words she'd said earlier that night, thinking of that moment years ago, though it sounded nothing like the last time. 'I'm was foolish and rash and..'

'A Gryffindor?'

She returned his smile, the first genuine one she'd smiled in almost a year. Then her face turned serious again and she returned her gaze to the city outside. 'After the Battle, I tried..' She tried swallowing back the lump in her throat 'I thought that I could do it. I went to see Amanda's parents, like she'd asked me to, and I just.. It was just too much. Their pain, their grief for their daughter.. I told them how brave she had been – even up to her death. And when I had nothing more to tell, I thanked them for the tea, got my coat and never looked back.' She watched as an owl flew by. 'I thought that it would get easier as time went on. But the wounds never seem to heal and the emptiness inside of me seems to grow every day. Some days I'm not even sure if it makes a difference whether I come out of bed anymore, no one cares anyway.. How do you do it, Draco? How do you hold on?'

Daisy felt the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder, before she was gently pulled into a warm, familiar body smelling of green apples and something spicy, something unquestionably his. He kept her there for a moment, not saying a word but nevertheless comforting her with his presence. Then, at last he spoke, taking her smaller hand in his. 'I guess I try to think of my Mom, who's all alone now that my father is in Azkaban and I'm here. I try to think of my father, who is everything that I hope never to become. But mostly, I try to think of myself, because this was never what I've wanted to be. I never had a choice, but now I do. And I wish to become someone I'll be proud of being.'

She had closed her eyes somewhere during his speech, drinking in the sweet quality of his voice. But there was something else, something she had not felt for a very long time. Hope. Without giving herself a chance to rethink, to double back, she squeezed his hand back. 'Teach me.'

And he would.


End file.
